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Soy taauuuinudonnts hi: Re me A ae at ote ; iia ahedstghcsateobeds meetateh gfals oa riptrbnoteletts Liter ati net “a 


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SAND-BURIED RUINS 


OF 


KHOTAN 


FOUR IMPORTANT 
BOOKS OF TRAVEL 


THROUGH UNKNOWN TIBET. 
By the late Captain M.S. Werrzy, 18th Hussars. 
With a Photogravure Frontispiece and many other 
Illustrations, also Maps and Appendices of Flora, 
etc. Medium $8vo, cloth gilt, 21s. 


IN TIBET AND CHINESE TURKESTAN: 
Being the Record of Three Years’ Exploration. 
By Captain H. H. P. Deasy. With Appendices, 
Maps, and 80 Illustrations. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, 
21s. net. Also a CuEap Epirion, 6s. net. 


CLIMBING AND EXPLORATION IN THE 
KARAKORAM-HIMALAYAS. 
By Sir Wirt1am Martin Conway, M.A., F.S.A., 
F.R.G.S. With 300 Illustrations by A. D. 
McCormick, and Maps. 1 vol., super royal 8yvo, 
cloth, 31s. 6d. net. 


IN THE ICE WORLD OF HIMALAYA. 


By Fanny Buttock Workman and WILLIAM 
Hunter Workman. With four large Maps and 
nearly 100 Illustrations. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, 
16s. Also a 6s, Edition. 


LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN. 


SAND-BURIED 
RUINS or KHOTAN 


PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A 
JOURNEY OF ARCHAEOLOGICAL & 
GEOGRAPHICAL EXPLORATION 
DING eG TIENGEo i, ” ace BS ALN: 


BY 


M. AUREL STEIN 


WITH A MAP FROM ORIGINAL SURVEYS AND 


NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS 


T. FISHER UNWIN 
PATERNOSTER SQUARE 
LONDON. M-CM- II] 


[ All rights reserved. | 


TO. THE MEMORY 


OF 


MY BROTHER 


WHOSE LOVING CARE EVER FOLLOWED ME THROUGH LIFE, 


THIS ACCOUNT: OF MY JOURNEY, 


FIRST RECORDED FOR HIM, 


IS INSCRIBED 


IN UNCEASING AFFECTION AND SORROW. 


Baer wig 
a5 


INTRODUCTION 


THE journey described in these pages was carried out in the year 
1900-01, under the auspices of the Government of India. Its 
main object was the systematic exploration of ancient remains 
about Khotan and in the adjoining parts of the great desert of 
Chinese Turkestan. The fresh materials thus brought to light for 
the study of the early history and culture of those regions were so 
extensive that my full scientific report must, by reason of its bulk 
and cost, necessarily remain beyond the reach of the general 
public. I have therefore gladly availed myself of the permission 
accorded to me to publish independently the present narrative, 
which is intended to record for a wider class of readers my personal 
experiences and observations, as well as the main facts concerning 
my antiquarian discoveries. 

I have spared no trouble to render my account of the latter 
accurate in its details and yet thoroughly intelligible to the non- 
Orientalist. It has been my hope to attract his interest to a 
fascinating chapter of ancient history which witnessed interchange 
between the civilisations of India, China, and the Classical West 
in that distant part of Central Asia, and which seemed almost com- 
pletely lost to us. If this hope is fulfilled, and if at the same time 
these pages convey adequate impressions of the strange scenes and 
conditions amidst which I passed that year of trying but happy 
toil, I shall feel repaid for the additional labour involved in the 
preparation of this narrative. 

The circumstances which induced me to form the project of 

vill 


vill INTRODUCTION 


these explorations, and the arrangements by which I was enabled 
to carry it into execution, have already been explained in my ‘‘ Pre- 
liminary Report on a Journey of Archeological and Topographical 
Exploration in Chinese Turkestan,’ published in 1901 under the 
authority of the Secretary of State for India. Hence a succinct 
notice of them may suffice here. The idea of archzological work 
about Khotan first suggested itself to me in the spring of 1897, in 
consequence of some remarkable antiquarian acquisitions from that 
region. Among the papers left by the distinguished but ill-fated 
French traveller, M. Dutreuil de Rhins, were fragments of ancient 
birch-bark leaves, which had been acquired in the vicinity of 
Khotan. On expert examination they proved to contain a Buddhist 
text in an early Indian script and language, and were soon 
recognised as the oldest Indian manuscript then known, going 
back to the first centuries of our era. 

About the same time the ‘‘ British collection of Central-Asian 
antiquities’? formed at Calcutta through the efforts: of Dr. A. F. 
Rudolf Hoernle, c.1.n., received from the same region notable 
additions, consisting of fragments of paper manuscripts, pieces of 
ancient pottery, and similar relics. They had been sold to repre- 
sentatives of the Indian Government in Kashgar, Kashmir and 
Ladak as finds made by native ‘‘ treasure-seekers ” at ancient sites 
about Khotan. Similar purchases had reached public collections 
at St. Petersburg through the Russian Consul-General at Kashgar 
and others. A curious feature of all these acquisitions made from 
a distance was that, besides unmistakably genuine documents in 
Indian and Chinese writing, they included a large proportion of 
texts displaying a strange variety of entirely ‘‘ unknown scripts,” 
which could not fail to arouse suspicion. While the materials thus 
accumulated, no reliable information was ever forthcoming as to the 
exact origin of the finds or the true character of the ruined sites 
which were supposed to have furnished them. No part of Chinese 
Turkestan had then been explored from an archeological point of 
view, and it struck me that, however much attention these and 
other future discoveries might receive from competent Orientalists in 


PLAN OF EXPLORATIONS 1X 


Europe, their full historical and antiquarian value could never be 
realised without systematic researches on the spot. 

The practicable nature of the project was proved in the meantime 
by the memorable march which Dr. Hedin made in the winter of 
1896 past two areas of sand-buried ruins in the desert north-east 
of Khotan. Though the distinguished explorer, during his neces- 
sarily short halt at each place, was unable to secure any exact 
evidence as to the character and date of the ruins, this discovery 
(of which the first account reached me in 1898) sufficed to demon- 
strate both the existence and the comparative accessibility of 
ancient sites likely to reward excavation. 

Tt was only in the summer of 1898 that I found leisure to work 
out the detailed plan of my journey and to submit it with Dr. 
Hoernle’s weighty recommendation to the Indian Government, 
whose sanction and assistance were indispensable for its execution. 
Generously supported first by Sir Mackworth Young, k.c.s.1., late 
Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjab, and subsequently on my tem- 
porary transfer to Bengal by the late Sir John Woodburn, K.¢.s.1., 
the lamented head of that administration and a zealous friend of 
Oriental learning, my proposals met with favourable consideration 
on the part of Lord Curzon’s Government. In July, 1899, the 
scheme, in which Sir Charles Rivaz, xk.c.s.1., then Member 
of the Viceregal Council and now Lieutenant-Governor of the 
Punjab, had from the first shown kind personal interest, received 
the final sanction of the Government of India. A resolution in the 
Department of Revenue and Agriculture provided for my deputation 
on special duty to Chinese Turkestan, during a period of one year. 
At the same time a grant of Rs. 9,000 (£600), partly from Imperial 
resources and partly from contributions by the Local Governments 
of the Punjab and Bengal, was placed at my disposal to meet the 
estimated expenditure on the journey and explorations. 

That, notwithstanding the great distances and physical obstacles 
to be overcome and in spite of all the uncertainties attending an 
enterprise in a new field, I succeeded in accomplishing the whole 
of my programme strictly within the sanctioned estimates of time 


Xx INTRODUCTION 


and expense is a fact which from a practical and quasi-administra- 
tive point of view I feel proud to record. How much anxious 
thought, calculation and effort its attainment cost me, need 
scarcely be detailed here. Considering the nature and extent of 
the ground covered by my travels, and the difficulties of work in 
the desert, the relatively low expenditure involved in my explora- 
tions has since been noted with surprise by brother archeologists 
and others. 

Long experience of marching and camping gained on Indian 
ground certainly helped in restricting the cost. But even thus the 
expenses of my expedition would certainly have been higher, had 
not the Survey of India Department liberally offered its assistance. 
Previous antiquarian tours in Kashmir, the Punjab, and on the 
Afghan Frontier had taught me the importance of exact topo- 
eraphical observation as an adjunct of my researches. The 
necessity of fixing accurately the position of ancient sites and 
generally elucidating the historical geography of the country was 
bound to bring surveying operations in Chinese Turkestan into the 
closest connection with my immediate task. But in addition I was 
anxious from the first to utilise whatever opportunities the journey 
might offer for geographical work of a more general character in 
regions which had hitherto remained without a proper survey or 
altogether unexplored. 

Colonel St. George Gore, R.E., 0.S.1., Surveyor-General of India, 
proved most willing to further this object. He kindly agreed to 
depute with me one of the native Sub-Surveyors of his Depart- 
ment, and to provide the necessary equipment of surveying instru- 
ments, together with a special grant of Rs. 2,000 (£133), in order to 
cover the additional expenses. Of the excellent services rendered 
by Babu Ram Singh, the Sub-Surveyor selected, my narrative gives 
ample evidence. With his help a continuous system of surveys, 
by plane-table, astronomical observations and triangulation, was 
carried on during the whole of my travels in Chinese Turkestan. 
The results of these surveys, which in the mountains I was able to 
supplement by photogrammetric survey work of my own, and the 


AID OF INDIAN GOVERNMENT xl 


direction and supervision of which throughout claimed much of my 
time and attention, are now embodied in maps published by the 
Trigonometrical Branch of the Survey of India. From these the 
small scale map was prepared which, with the kind permission of 
the Royal Geographical Society, has been reproduced for the 
present volume. 

For the generous consideration and aid of the Indian Government 
that alone enabled me to undertake the scientific enterprise I had 
planned, I shall ever retain the feeling of deep and sincere 
gratitude. Through it, I had secured at last the long and eagerly 
sought chance to serve, in a new field and with a measure of 
freedom such as had never fallen to my share, those interests of 
Oriental research which had claimed me from the commencement 
of my student days, and which had brought me to India. 

The twelve years since passed, mainly in the service of the 
Punjab University, had taught me fully to appreciate the importance 
of both time and money in regard to archeological labours. 
Though placed tantalisingly near to the ground which by its 
ancient remains and historical associations has always had a 
special fascination for me, I had rarely been able to devote to 
antiquarian work more than brief intervals of hard-earned leisure. 

The fact that my administrative duties had no direct connection 
with my scientific interests, might well have made me _ feel 
despondent about the chance of ever obtaining the means needed 
for systematic archwological explorations, even on well-known 
ground and in easily accessible regions. For with, I fear, the 
majority of fellow-workers I had failed to profit by the example of 
the late Dr. Schliemann, who, before attempting to realise his 
grand projects at Troy and Mykene, had resolutely set himself to 
assure that safest base of success, personal independence and an 
ample reserve of funds. 

The exceptional help which the Indian Government, inspired by 
Lord Curzon’s generous interest in the history and antiquities of 
the East, had accorded to me, for a time removed the difficulties 
against which I had struggled, and brought the longed-for oppor- 


xi -. INTRODUCTION 


tunity within myreach. But remembering the circumstances under 
which it had been secured, I could not prevent anxious thoughts 
often crossing my mind in the course of my preparations and after. 
Would Fate permit the full execution of my plan within the available 
time, and would the results prove an adequate return for the liberal 
consideration and aid that the Government had extended to me ? 

T knew well that neither previous training and experience, nor 
careful preparation and personal zeal, could guarantee success. 
The wide extent of the region to be searched and the utter 
insufficiency of reliable information would alone have justified 
doubts as to how much those sand-buried sites would yield up 
during a limited season. But in addition there was the grave fact 
that prolonged work in the desert such as I contemplated would 
have to be carried through in the face of exceptional physical 
difficulties and even dangers. Nor was it possible to close my 
eyes to the very serious obstacles which suspicions of the local 
Chinese administration and quasi-political apprehensions, however 
unfounded, might raise to the realisation of my programme. 

When I now look back upon these anxieties and doubts, and 
recognise in the light of the knowledge since gathered how much 
there was to support them, I feel doubly grateful to the kindly 
Destiny which saved my plans from being thwarted by any of those 
difficulties, and which allowed my labours to be rewarded by results 
richer than I had ventured to hope for. In respect of the efforts 
and means by which these results were secured, no remarks seem 
here needed; the reader of my present narrative, whatever his 
knowledge of Central Asia and its historical past may be, can 
safely be left to judge of them for himself. But in regard to the 
scientific value of the results similar reticence would scarcely be 
justified, however much personal feelings might make me incline 
towards it. 

It is impossible to overlook the fact that archeological research 
in great fields like India and Central Asia, which lie beyond the 
stimulating influence of Biblical associations, has not as yet 
succeeded in gaining its due share of sympathy and interest from 


SCIENTIFIC RESULTS OF JOURNEY Xill 


the wider public. In consequence the latter has so far had little 
opportunity of learning to appreciate the great historical problems 
which are involved in those researches. In the absence of such 
preparatory information the non-Orientalist could not be expected 
to form for himself a correct estimate of the importance of the 
discoveries resulting from my explorations without the guidance of 
expert opinion. I must therefore feel grateful that the generous 
attention paid to my labours by the most representative body of 
qualified fellow-scholars permits me to supply expert opinion in a 
clear and conclusive form. 

The International Congress of Orientalists, assembled at Hamburg 
in September, 1902, before which I was privileged to give an 
account of my journey and excavations, adopted the following 
resolution, proposed by Professor Henri Cordier, the representative 
of the French Government, and Dr. A. A. Macdonell, Boden 
Professor of Sanskrit at Oxford, and recommended by the com- 
bined Indian, Central-Asian, and Far-Eastern Sections :— 


“ The XILth International Congress of Orientalists held at Hamburg 
beg to express their thanks to His Excellency the Viceroy and the 
Government of India for the great encouragement they have extended to 
Oriental learning and research by granting to Dr. M. A. Stein the neces- 
sary leisure and means for the prosecution of his recent explorations in 
Eastern Turkestan. They desire at the same time to express their appre- 
ciation of the highly important results which have rewarded the labours 
of the scholar selected by the Government of India, and which represent 
an ample return for the outlay incurred, owing to the practical nature of 
the operations conducted by him. They would also venture to: express 
the hope that facilities will be given to him for completing the publication 
and elaboration of the results obtained, and that the Government will be 
pleased to sanction any necessary extension for this purpose of Dr. Stein’s 
present deputation, Finally, they venture to express the hope that, when 
circumstances permit, the interests of archeological research will be 
allowed to benefit by Dr. Stein’s special experience and previous know- 
ledge, which are likely to facilitate considerably the further explorations 
which it is desirable should be entrusted to him in the interests of India.” 


As far as the space and the limited means of illustration available 
in this personal narrative would permit, I have endeavoured to 


X1V INTRODUCTION 


explain to my readers the significance of the mass of antiquarian 
materials brought to light by my excavations—whether in the form 
of objects of ancient art and industry; or in those hundreds of old 
manuscripts and documents which the desert sand has preserved in 
such surprising freshness ; or finally in the many curious observa- 
tions I was able to make on the spot about the conditions of 
every-day life, etc., once prevailing in those sand-buried settlements. 
But of the great historical questions which all these finds help to 
illuminate, it was impossible to show more than the bare outlines, 
and those only in glimpses. This cannot be the place for their 
systematic discussion. But I may at least indicate here the main 
directions in which those discoveries are likely to open new vistas 
into obscure periods of Central-Asian civilisation. 

The early spread of Buddhist teaching and worship from India 
into Central Asia, China and the Far East is probably the most 
remarkable contribution made by India to the general development 
of mankind. Chinese records had told us that Buddhism reached 
the ‘‘ Middle Kingdom ”’ not directly from the land of its birth, 
but through Central-Asian territories lying northward. We also 
knew from the accounts left by the devoted Chinese pilgrims who, 
from the fourth century a.p. onwards, had made their way to the 
sacred Buddhist sites in India, that Sakyamuni’s creed still counted 
numerous followers in many of the barbarian ‘‘ Western Kingdoms ’”’ 
they passed through. But these Chinese travellers, best represented 
by the saintly “‘ Master of the Law,” Hiuen-Tsiang, our Indian 
Pausanias, had their eyes fixed on subjects of spiritual interest, on 
holy places and wonder-working shrines, on points of doctrine and 
monastic observance. Of the many things of this world about 
which their observations would have been of far greater interest for 
the historical student, they have rarely chosen to inform us even 
within the sacred bounds of India. Hence their brief notices of 
Central-Asian countries, visited merely en route, fail to supply 
definite indications of the extent to which Indian culture, language 
and art had spread with Buddhist propaganda across the Himalaya 
and the Hindukush. 


BUDDHISM IN CENTRAL ASIA xv 


That such influences had been at work there for long centuries, 
and sometimes penetrated even much further to the East, occasional 
references in the Chinese Annals and elsewhere had led us to sus- 
pect. But of those indigenous records and remains which might 
enable us to reconstruct that bygone phase of civilisation in its main 
aspects, all trace seemed to have vanished with the Muhammadan 
conquest (tenth—eleventh century). 

Chance finds of ancient manuscripts, in Sanskrit and mostly 
Buddhistic, which commenced in 1890 with Captain (now Colonel) 
Bower’s famous birch-bark leaves from Kucha, were the first tangible 
proof that precious materials of this kind might still be preserved 
under the arid soil of Chinese Turkestan. The importance of these 
literary relics was great, apart from their philological value ; for they 
plainly showed that, together with Buddhism, the study of the 
classical language of India also found a home in that distant land 
beyond the Himalaya. But on the cultural entowrage in which this 
far transplanted Indian learning had flourished, such chance acqui- 
sitions, of uncertain origin and unaccompanied by archeological 
evidence, could throw little light. 

For systematic excavations, which alone could supply this evidence, 
the region of Khotan appeared from the first a field of particular 
promise. In scattered notices of Chinese records there was much to 
suggest that this little kingdom, situated on the important route 
that led from China to the Oxus Valley and hence to India as well 
as to the West, had played a prominent part in developing the 3 
impulses received from India and transmitting them eastwards. 
The close connection with ancient Indian art seemed particularly 
marked in whatever of small antiques, such as pottery fragments, 
coins and seals, native agency had supplied from Khotan. And 
fortunately for our researches, archeology could here rely on the 
help of a very effective ally—the moving sand of the desert which 
preserves what it buries. Eyer since human activity first created 
the oases of Khotan territory, their outskirts must have witnessed 
a continuous struggle with that most formidable of deserts, 
the Taklamakan; while local traditions, attested from an early 


XVi INTRODUCTION 


date, told of settlements that had been abandoned before its 
advance. 

The ruined sites explored by me have more than justified the hopes 
which led me to Khotan and into its desert. Scattered over an area 
which in a straight line extends for more than three hundred miles 
from west and east, and dating back to very different periods, these 
ruins throughout reveal to us a uniform and well-defined civilisation. 
It is easy to recognise now that this bygone culture rested mainly 
on Indian foundations. But there has also come to light unmis- 
takable evidence of other powerful influences, both from the West 
and from China, which helped to shape its growth and to invest 
it with an individual character and fascination of its own. 

The origin and history of the culture that once flourished in 
Buddhist Khotan, are faithfully reflected in the remarkable series 
of sculptures and paintings which the ancient shrines and dwell- 
ing places, after long centuries of burial beneath the dunes, 
have yielded up. Exact archeological evidence enables us to 
determine the various periods at which these settlements were 
invaded by the desert sand. Though these periods range from the 
third to the close of the eighth century of our era, yet the prepon- 
derance of Indian art influences is attested by the latest as well as 
by the earliest of these finds. The rich statuary of the Rawak 
Stupa Court, and the decorative wood carvings of the ancient site 
beyond Niya, reproduce with astonishing fidelity the style and 
motives of that fascinating ‘ Greco-Buddhist’ art which, fostered 
by Hellenistic-Roman influences grew up and flourished in Gandharz 
(the present Peshawar Valley) and other neighbouring tracts in the 
extreme North-West of India, during the centuries immediately 
preceding and following the commencement of our era. Yet when 
we turn from those remains to the frescoes on the walls of the small 
Buddhist shrines at Dandan-Uiliq, dating some five hundred years 
later, we recognise with equal distinctness the leading features of 
ancient Indian pictorial art as preserved for us in the Ajanta Cave 
paintings. 

The records of the Chinese Annals plainly showed us that for 


ART OF ANCIENT KHOTAN Xvil 


considerable periods under both the Later Han and the Tang 
dynasties China had maintained effective political control over the 
kingdom of Khotan. My excavations have confirmed these records, 
and from the finds of Chinese documents on wood or paper, Chinese 
coins, articles of manufacture, etc., it has become abundantly clear 
that Chinese civilisation no less than political ascendency asserted 
there a powerful influence. Seeing how close for centuries were the 
relations between Khotan and the great empire eastwards in matters 
of administration, trade and industrial intercourse, we cannot feel 
surprised to find a connection in art also attested by manifest traces. 
It is China which in this direction appears the main borrower ; for 
besides such distinct historical evidence as the notice about a scion 
of the royal house of Khotan, whom the Annals name as the 
founder. of a new pictorial school in China in the seventh century 
A.D., there is much to suggest that the Indian element which so 
conspicuously pervades the whole Buddhist art of the Far East had 
to a very large extent found its way thither through Khotan. Yet 
a careful analysis of the composition and drawing in more than one 
of the frescoes and painted panels of Dandan-Uiliq will show that 
Chinese taste also had its influence on the later art of Khotan. 

For us still greater interest must attach to the convincing 
evidence disclosed as to the question how far into Central Asia 
the classical art of the West had penetrated during the first centuries 
of our era. We see its triumphant advance to Khotan, half-way 
between Western Europe and Peking, strikingly demonstrated by 
the remarkable series of classical seals, impressed on clay and yet 
preserved in wonderful freshness, which still adhere to a number of 
the many ancient documents on wood discovered at the sand-buried 
site beyond Niya. As explained in Chapter XXV., where I have 
discussed and illustrated some of these important finds, we cannot 
make sure in each case where the well-modelled figures of Greek 
deities, such as Pallas Athene and Eros, or the classically treated 
portrait heads that appear in these seals, were actually engraved. 
But it is certain that the seals themselves were currently used by 
officials and others resident within the kingdom of Khotan, and that 

1* 


XVili INTRODUCTION 


classical models greatly influenced the work of local lapidaries and 
die-sinkers. The remarkable diversity of the cultural influences 
which met and mingled at Khotan during the third century a.p. is 
forcibly brought home to us by these records from a remote Central- 
Asian settlement, inscribed on wooden tablets in an Indian language 
and writing and issued by officials with strangely un-Indian titles, 
whose seals carry us to the classical world far away in the West. 

The imitation of early Persian art of which, five centuries later, 
we find unmistakable traces in some of the paintings of sacred 
Buddhist subjects recovered from the ruins of Dandan-Uiliq, is a 
curious parallel, and from a historical point of view almost equally 
instructive. . 

The dwelling places, shrines, etc., of those ancient settlements 
had, no doubt, before the desert sand finally buried them, been 
cleared by the last inhabitants and others of everything that 
possessed intrinsic value. But much of what they left behind, 
though it could never tempt the treasure-seckers of succeeding 
ages, has acquired for us exceptional value. The remains of 
ancient furniture such as the wooden chair reproduced on 
p- 376; the shreds of silks and other woven fabrics; the tatters 
of antique rugs; the fragments of glass, metal and pottery ware ; 
the broken pieces of domestic and agricultural implements, and the 
manifold other relics, however humble, which had safely rested in 
the sand-buried dwellings and their deposits of rubbish—these all 
help to bring vividly before our eyes details of ancient civilisation 
that without the preserving force of the desert would have been lost 
for ever. 

But however interesting and instructive such details may be, 
they would, by themselves, not permit us with any degree. of 
critical assurance to reconstruct the life and social organisation 
which once flourished at these settlements, or to trace the historical 
changes which they have witnessed. The hope of ever elucidating 
such questions was dependent on the discovery of written records, 
and it is fortunate indeed that, at the very sites which proved richest 
in those relics of material culture, the finds of ancient manuscripts 


DISCOVERIES OF ANCIENT RECORDS X1X 


and documents were also unexpectedly ample and varied. The 
Sanskrit manuscripts excavated at Dandan-Uiliq acquaint us with 
that class of canonical Buddhist literature which we may assume to 
have been most cherished in the monastic establishments of ancient 
Khotan. The series of Chinese documents discovered in ruins of 
the same site is of particular historical interest. The exact dates 
recorded in them (781—790 a.p.), in combination with other evidence, 
clearly indicate the close of the eighth century as the time when the 
settlement was deserted, while their contents throw curious side- 
lights on the economical and political conditions of the territory 
immediately before Chinese suzerain power finally abandoned these 
regions to Tibetan invasion. Sanskrit manuscripts and records in 
Chinese mark foreign imports in the culture of Khotan. All the 
more interest attaches to the numerous documents and fragmentary 
texts from the same site which show an otherwise unknown 
language, manifestly non-Sanskritic yet written in Indian Brahmi 
characters; for it appears very probable that in them we have 
records of the tongue actually spoken at that period by the 
indigenous population of Khotan. 

We see Sanskrit, Chinese and the same non-Sanskritic language 
similarly represented among the literary finds from the ruined 
temple of Endere, in the extreme east of the territory explored. 
But here in addition there appears Tibetan, as if to remind us 
of the prominent part which Tibet too has played in the history of 
Central Asia. A curious Chinese graffito found on the wall of the 
Endere temple clearly refers to the Tibetans, and gives a date 
which, since its recent examination by Sinologists, can be safely 
read as 719 a.p. It is probable that these finds of Tibetan 
manuscripts are directly connected with that extension of Tibetan 
power into Eastern Turkestan which the Chinese Annals record for 
that very period. 

But much older and of far greater importance than any of these 
finds are the hundreds of Kharoshthi documents on wood and 
leather brought to light from the ruined houses and the rubbish 
heaps of the ancient settlement discovered beyond the point where 


XX INTRODUCTION 


the Niya River now loses itself in the desert. Their peculiar 
writing material (so much older than the paper of my other literary 
finds), their early Indian script and language, and the surprisingly 
perfect state of preservation of many among them would alone have 
sufficed to invest these documents with special interest. But their 
exceptional historical value is derived from the fact that they prove 
to contain records written as early as the third century of our era, 
and dealing with a wide range of matters of administration and 
private life. 

In Chapter XXVI. I have endeavoured to indicate the varied 
nature and abounding interest of the information which this mass 
of official reports and orders, letters, accounts, and miscellaneous 
‘papers’ (to use an anachronism) is bound to reveal to us. The 
results already obtained have opened new and far-reaching vistas. 
It is no small discovery to find the old local tradition of a 
colonisation of Khotan from the extreme North-West of India 
confirmed by the use, in ordinary practical intercourse, of an Indian 
language and a script peculiar to the very region from which those 
Indian immigrants were believed to have come. 

The thought of the grave risks with which nature and, still more, 
human activity threaten all these relics of antiquity, was ever present 
to my mind, and formed an urgent incentive to unwearied exertion, 
however trying the conditions of work might be. On the one hand 
I had ample occasion in the desert to observe the destructive effect 
of erosion by wind and sand on whatever of ancient remains is left 
exposed to its slow but unrelenting power. On the other I could 
not fail to be impressed by the warnings of impending destruction 
through the hand of man: there were the evident traces of the 
mischief done by Khotan “ treasure-seekers ”’ at the more accessible 
sites, and also, alas! a vivid remembrance of the irretrievable loss - 
which the study of Indian art and antiquities has suffered through 
‘irresponsible digeing’’ carried on until recent years by, and for, 
amateur collectors among the ruined Buddhist shrines of the North- 
West Frontier of India. 

Though the climate of the Turkestan desert is not inferior in 


RISKS TO KHOTAN ANTIQUITIES XX1 


conserving capacity to that of Egypt, yet neither Khotan nor any 
other territory bordering on that desert could ever compare with 
the land of the Pharaohs in wealth of antiquarian remains awaiting 
exploration. ‘‘ Ancient cities,’ complete with palaces, streets, 
markets, etc., such as are pictured by Turkestan folklore, and 
also by indiscriminating Kuropean imagination, as lying submerged 
under the sand-dunes through a kind of Sodom and Gomorrah 
catastrophe, are certainly not to be looked for. The sites where 
settlements abandoned in early times could be located, with ruins 
still capable of excavation, were few in number, and even those 
among them which, being further removed from the present inhabited 
area, had so far escaped the ravages of the ‘‘ treasure-seekers,” 
could not be expected to remain safe much longer. The time 
seems still distant when Khotan will see its annual stream of 
tourists. Yet the extensive industry of forged ‘‘ old books” which 
had grown up in Khotan during recent years, and which I was able 
to trace and expose in detail (see Chapter XXXI.), sufficiently shows 
how dangerous a factor ‘‘ collecting” has already become even in 
Chinese Turkestan. 

In the face of such difficulties as work in the Taklamakan 
presents I could never have made my explorations sufficiently 
extensive and thorough without the active co-operation of the 
Chinese administrators of the districts from which I had to draw 
guides, labour, supplies—in fact, whatever was needed during my 
winter campaign in the desert. I had the good fortune to find in the 
Ambans Pan-Darin and Huang-Daloi, then in charge of Khotan 
and Keriya, reliable friends, thoroughly interested in my work and 
ever ready to help me with all that was in their power. I look 
back to the invariable kindness and attention I received from these 
amiable Mandarins with all the more gratitude as it was shown at 
a time when, as they well knew, the conflict with the European 
powers was convulsing their empire. They were fully aware, too, 
that the services rendered to my scholarly enterprise could earn 
them neither material advantages nor honours. 

The true historical sense innate in educated Chinese and the 


XXli INTRODUCTION 


legendary knowledge I found to prevail among them of Hiuen- 
Tsiang, the great Buddhist pilgrim, whom I claimed as my guide 
and patron saint, certainly helped me in explaining the objects of 
my explorations to my Chinese friends and enlisting their personal 
interest. But I cannot doubt that the sympathetic attitude adopted 
from the first by the provincial administration towards my work was 
directly due to the efforts made on my behalf by Mr. G. Macartney, 
C.1.E., the representative of the Indian Government at Kashgar, 
whose personal influence among all Chinese dignitaries of the 
province is as great as it is well deserved. My narrative shows 
the manifold benefits I derived from the unfailing care of this kind 
and accomplished friend, who from afar never ceased to follow my 
explorations with watchful interest. For the important help he 
thus rendered towards their success, and for all his personal 
kindness, I am anxious to record here the expression of my sincere 
gratitude. 

The résumé given above of the aims and results of my archeo- 
logical work will, I hope, help to account for the character of my 
present narrative and the labour involved in its preparation. The 
interests of science obliged me to concentrate my efforts on a series 
of well-defined tasks and to avoid whatever might interfere with 
their carefully prepared execution. Mine was not a journey leaving 
much range for those chance incidents which may at times lead to 
exciting personal experiences, but are far more likely to cause loss 
in substantial results through waste of time, energy and means. I 
can only hope that my book may reach readers ready to find 
compensation in the thought that long-continued study of the 
ancient Kast and familiarity with modern India and its northern 
borderlands permit me to offer them guidance in regard to much ° 
that is of general human interest both in the present conditions 
and the historical past of the regions traversed. 

The critical standards to which I am pledged by my work as a 
scholar would not allow me to compile a narrative by the mere 
reproduction of those diary leaves which were intended to convey 
the first records of my personal experiences and impressions to 


PREPARATION OF PERSONAL NARRATIVE — xxiii 


dear eyes since closed for ever by Death. Though my account was 
intended for a wider public than that of Orientalist or antiquarian 
scholars, yet I felt it incumbent to take every care that it should 
neither contain statements which further scrutiny might require to 
be modified in my scientific Report, nor pass over unnoticed any 
essential facts connected with my archeological discoveries. 

The preparation of my narrative on these lines has implied far 
more labour than may, perhaps, appear on the surface. It would, 
in fact, have been impossible to accomplish it with the scanty 
leisure left from official duties as Inspector of Schools in the 
Punjab, to which I had to return on the conclusion of my 
explorations, in the autumn of 1901. Fortunately, however, the 
Government of India, on the proposal of the Punjab Government 
and with the concurrence of the Secretary of State for India, 
granted to me in the following year a period of deputation to 
England in order that I might be enabled to elaborate the results 
of my journey with the help of the original finds temporarily 
deposited in the British Museum. . 

For the generous consideration thus shown to me I feel it my 
duty to record here my deep sense of gratitude to His Excellency 
the Viceroy and the Indian Government. Just as my explorations 
were rendered possible only through their powerful aid, so, too, 
I owe to their liberality the temporary freedom for scholarly labour 
which has permitted me to complete the present narrative. I feel 
confident that its contents will be found in more than one respect 
a necessary complement to my Detailed scientific Report which is 
still under preparation. On the other hand, I must refer my 
readers to the latter publication for many illustrations of antiqui- 
ties, ruins, scenery, etc., which to my regret it was found impossibie, 
on account of technical difficulties and other reasons, to provide 
here. 

It remains for me to record my grateful acknowledgments for the 
manifold assistance which I have received while preparing this 
volume. ‘To none do I feel more indebted than to my artist friend, 
Mr. Fred. H. Andrews, who ever since my return from Chinese 


XXIV INTRODUCTION 


Turkestan has furthered my labours with enthusiastic devotion. 
His wide knowledge of ancient Indian art, acquired in his late post 
as Principal of the School of Art and Curator of the Museum at 
Lahore, and his own high artistic abilities, have rendered his 
co-operation in the arrangement and description of my collection of 
antiquities of the utmost value. He has never wearied in giving 
me the full benefit of his expert advice in questions affecting the 
technical aspects of my finds, and he has spared no trouble to 
make the illustrations of this book as effective as their number and 
the available means of reproduction would permit. 

Besides drawings and diagrams embodied in these pages I owe 
to his skill the design reproduced on the cover of this volume and 
the Black and White drawing for the Vignette which adorns the title- 
page. This represents a restored yet faithfully conceived enlarge- 
ment of the figure of Pallas Athene as seen in several of the 
ancient seal impressions on clay excavated by me from the desert. 
sand. I could scarcely have wished for my narrative to issue 
under a more felicitous emblem. 

Dr, A. F. Rudolf Hoernle, the eminent Indologist, who from the 
first had shown the warmest interest in my explorations, was kind 
enough to place at my disposal valuable information in respect of 
the ancient manuscripts in Brahmi characters, the publication of 
which has been undertaken by him; he has further rendered me 
the great service of reading a revision of this book. I owe a 
similar debt of gratitude to my friend Mr. E. J. Rapson, of the 
British Museum, who not only charged himself with the care of 
my collection while I was absent in India, but has also allowed 
me to benefit at all times by the results of the most painstaking 
researches he has devoted to the decipherment of the ancient 
Kharoshthi documents. To Dr. Perey Gardner, Professor of 
Archeology in the University of Oxford, I am indebted for most 
competent guidance in respect of the objects of classical art 
contained in my collection, and for much kind encouragement 
besides. 

For the interpretation of my important Chinese records I must 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF FRIENDLY HELP XXV 


consider myself particularly fortunate in having enjoyed the assis- 
tance of such distinguished Sinologist experts as Dr. S. W. Bushell, 
o.M.@., and Professors E. Chavannes and Douglas. The complete 
translation and analysis of those documents with which Professor 
Chavannes, of the Collége de France, has favoured me for publication 
in my Detailed Report, has already proved of very great value for 
the study of Chinese influence in Turkestan. Dr. Bushell and 
Professor Douglas, of the British Museum, have never failed to 
help me with learned advice on questions concerning Chinese lore. 

If I have left it to the last to mention my obligations to my 
friends Mr. J. 8. Cotton, late editor of the ‘‘ Academy,” and 
Mr. P. 8. Allen, of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, it is only 
because theirs was the help benefiting more directly the Western 
or modern aspect of the work now presented. The former did me 
the great favour of revising my manuscript with special regard to 
the requirements of the general reader, a task for which he was 
exceptionally qualified by his literary experience ; while the other 
kind friend cheerfully charged himself with a revision of my proofs 
and greatly helped me by its thoroughness. To his kind offices 
and the generous mediation of Mr. Cuthbert Shields, I owed the 
peaceful retreat for scholarly work’ which the hospitality of the 
President and Fellows of Corpus Christi College assured to me 
during the summer of 1902. With those inspiriting precincts, 
full of great memories from Erasmus to Ruskin, I shall always 
associate the recollection of the pleasantest part of my work in 
England. 


* * 


The narrative here presented still leaves me far from the 
conclusion of the labours which the antiquities and observations 
brought back from Chinese Turkestan have entailed upon me. 
Yet even thus I cannot prevent my eyes from looking beyond 
towards other fields of archzwological exploration, no less closely 
linked with the sphere of Indian historical interests and equally 


XXV1 INTRODUCTION 


likely to yield a rich harvest. On some my thoughts had been 
fixed long before I was able to visit India; but the years which 
have since passed by, though as full of scholarly labours as other 
duties would permit, have seemingly not brought me nearer to the 
longed-for chance of exploring them. 

Life seems short where the range for research ig so vast as in 
the case of ancient India and the regions through which it com- 
municated with the classical West. But life must appear shorter 
still when the chosen tasks cannot be done in the study, when they 
call for the exertions of the scholar and explorer combined, such as 
are readily faced only while the optimism of comparative youth and 
physical vigour endures. To Fate—and to those who dispense it, 
I offer due thanks for having allowed me to work on Indian ground 
and at last, after years of toil, to attain for a time freedom and the 
means to serve science. Yet when I look back upon all the efforts 
that had to precede this opportunity, I am tempted to regret that 
I cannot share the Indian belief in those ‘ future births’ which 
hold out promise of appropriate reward for ‘ merits,’ spiritual and 
other. For on the strength of such a belief I might feel more 
hopeful of meeting yet with that reward for my work at Khotan 
which I should prize highest,—the chance of repeating it else- 
where. 

M. AUREL STEIN. 


British Musrvum, 
April 16, 1903. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION 


PAGE 
First plan of explorations—Sanction and assistance of Indian Govern- 
ment—Hstimates of time and expense—Help of Survey of India 
Department—Previous obstacles to archeological labours—Un- 
certainties of enterprise—Value of scientific results—Resolution 
of International Oriental Congress—Buddhism in Central Asia— 
Antiquarian acquisitions from Chinese Turkestan—Indian in- 
fluences at Khotan—Ancient art of Khotan—Cultural connection 
with China—Relics of classical art—Interchange of ancient 
civilisations—Discoveries of Sanskrit, Chinese, Tibetan manu- 
scripts—Kharoshthi documents on wood—Ruins threatened by 
** treasure-seekers ’’—Help from Chinese officials— Purpose of 
Personal Narrative—Consideration shown by Indian Government 
—Acknowledgment of scholarly assistance—Prospects of future 
archeological work : i : 4 ; vii-xxvi 


CHAPTER I 
CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR 


On Mohand Marg—Previous antiquarian tours—Start from Calcutta 
—Up the Jhelam Valley—Arrival in Kashmir—Preparations at 
Srinagar—The Kashmir Chronicle—Camp on Sind River—The 
Bagh of Buchvor—Joined by Sub-Surveyor—Formation of camp 
—Start from Srinagar. : : ‘ s . 1-10 

XXV11 


XXVUi CONTENTS 
CHAPTER II 


TO ASTOR AND GILGIT 
PAGE 
Start on Gilgit route—A ‘ Master of the Gates ’’—Over the Tragbal 
Pass—Descent over snow-bridges—Valley of the ‘ Black Ganga” 
—Among the Dards—Halt at Gurez—In the Burzil Valley—Mini- 
marg—Crossing of Burzil Pass—Belated Commissariat—Views 
of Nanga-Parbat Peaks—The Astor capital—First sight of Indus 
—Halt at Duyan—The British Baby—Down to the Indus—A 
night ride from Bunji—At the pers apn Indian 
“Station” . : ; : . 11-28 : 


CHAPTER III 
THROUGH HUNZA 


Start from Gilgit—In the old Dogra Service—Glories of Mount 
Rakiposhi— The storming of Nilth—A_ historic gorge—Old 
adversaries—Stupa of Thol—Language of Hunza—Halt at 
Aliabad—Old raiding days—Relations with China—The Hunza 
Levies—Visit to Mir’s Castle—First march in Hunza Gorge— 
Ghammesar landslip—Climbs over ‘ Rafiks ’"~Ghulmit—Wakhi 
settlements—Glaciers near Pasu—Crossing of Batur Glacier— 
‘Darband’ of Khaibar—More alpine climbs—Marching of Kanjutis 
—A polyglot camp—Climbs to Misgar—Hunza hillmen dis- 
charged—A_ Celestial soldier—Yaks from the Pamir—Among 
Sarikoli herdsmen . F ; k ; : . 29-56 


CHAPTER IV 
ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR 


Crossing of Kilik Pass—Camp at K6k-térék—Survey work commenced 
—Watershed towards Oxus—Crossing of Wakhjir Pass—Oxus 
Source Glaciers—On Afghan soil—A vista into Wakhan—First 
news of Chinese troubles—March down the Taghdumbash Pamir 
—Chance meeting with German officer—Kirghiz and Wakhi 
settlers—Over pleasant grazing-grounds—Ride to Tashkurghan— 

A difficult fording . ; ; : p ‘ . 57-70 


CONTENTS XXIX 
CHAPTER V 


IN SARIKOL 

: PAGE 

Tash-kurghan, Ptolemy’s ‘“ Stone Tower ”’—On the track of Hiuen- 
Tsiang—Ruins of old town—Diplomatic surveying — Chinese 
garrison — Meeting with Sarikoli headmen — Applicants for 
“ Tabloids’ — Requisitions for kitchen— Plain of Tagharma— 
Muztagh-Ata sighted—March along Russian Pamir—A Kirghiz 
shrine—At Karasu post—Crossing of Ulugh-Rabat Pass — Old 
friends, the marmots—Chinese at Subashi post— Arrival at 
Little Kara-kul ; : , ; F . 71-838 


CHAPTER VI 
ON MUZTAGH-ATA 


Lakes of L. Kara-kul and Basik-kul—Day of alpine rain—Apprehen- 
sions of Kirghiz Beg— Kirghiz hospitality — A hitch about 
transport—Photo-theodolite survey — Start for Muztagh-Ata— 
Reconnoitring the great peaks—Heavy mantle of snow and ice— 
Along Yambulak Glacier—Trouble with Yaks—Preliminary climb 
Reconnaissance of Hunza Levies—Waiting for fair weather— 
Start for higher slopes—Climb in deep snow—Mountain-sickness 
of followers—Highest point reached—View over “Roof of the 
World ”—Plucky Hunza guides—Freebooting Visions — Descent 
to Yambulak Glacier Camp—Triangulation from Shamalda spur 
—Return to Kara-kul .. : ; , 3 . 84-105 


CHAPTER VII 
THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE TO KASHGAR 


Departure from Kara-kul—Tarns of Basik-kul—Obstruction at Bulun- 
kul—A pliable interpreter—Entrance of Gez Defile—Chinese 
engineering—Crossing Koksel Glacier—At Gez Karaul—Abscond- 
ing of Kirghiz—Opportune relief—Over the ‘‘ Nine Passes ’”’— 
Through tortuous gorges—Solitary spring—Distant view of plains 
—Serambles over decomposed ranges—Arrival in Tashmalik 
plain—Passage of Yamanyar R.—Through the Opal oasis-—First 
impressions of rural Turkestan—Ride into Kashgar. . 106-120 


XXX 


Mr. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER VIII 
STAY AT KASHGAR 


Maceartney’s hospitable roof—Stay at Chini-Bagh—Organisation 
of caravan—Purchase of camels and ponies— Engagement of 
Turki followers—The Kashgar craftsmen—Water-tanks for the 
desert—Congenial studies—Visits to Chinese officials—Appeal to 
Hiuen-Tsiang’s memory—News of fighting at Peking—Dangers of 
local troubles—Life at Chini-Bagh—A polyglot clientéle—Pienics 
of Kashgaris—The Russian Consulate—Remains of Stupas—Visit 
to Liu-Kin-tang’s temple—Chinese historical paintings—In the 


PAGE 


Chinese cantonment— Visit to an artist-official . , . 121-138 


CHAPTER IX 


KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH 


First start from Kashgar—Via Appia of Kashgar—Collation at Besh- 


karim—Shrine of holy Mairyam—Camp at Khanui—Site of 
Hasa-Tam—Ruins of Topa Tim—The Mauri Tim Stupa—‘“ The 
pigeon house”’ ruin—Departure from Kashgar—Ride to Khanarik 
—Hindu moneylenders—March to Achchik—On edge of desert— 
First crossing of sand-dunes—Arrival at Ordam-Padshah— Shrines 
in the desert—‘ Yolchi Beg’ on a camel—Tomb of Hazrat-Begim 


—Oasis of Kizil—A dreary caravan-route ; ; . 189-160 


CHAPTER X 


YARKAND AND KARGHALIK 


Reclamation of desert ground—Entry into Yarkand—Palatial quarters 


—Halt at Yarkand—Cosmopolitan visitors—Strange mixture of 
races—Old Turkestan art-ware-—Interviews with Liu-Darin— 
Chinese dinner-party—Currency complications—Departure from 
Yarkand—Crossing of Yarkand River—Halt at Karghalik—Visit 
of Karghalik Amban—Bazars of Karghalik—Buddhist monk 


from China . ; A i H a . 161-179 


CONTENTS XXXi 


CHAPTER XI 


ON THE ROAD TO KHOTAN 
PAGE 
Ancient desert route—On the track of Marco Polo—An exile in the 
desert—In Guma oasis—Enquiries after alleged ‘old books ’’— 
Karakul Mazar—Glimpse of Karakorum Range—Stupa of Topa 
Tim—Débris-strewn ‘ Tatis ’—Eroded ancient sites—An evening 
in weird desolation—Old remains at Moji—Oases of Zanguya and 
Pialma—Comfortable homesteads 7 i ; . 180-193 


CHAPTER XII 
ARRIVAL IN KHOTAN 


“The Pigeons’ sanctuary”—Legend of sacred rats—Survival of 
Buddhist local cult—Rural environs—Entry into Khotan town— 
Camp in residential gardens—First meeting with Pan-Darin— 
Despatch of ‘ prospecting” parties—Preparing for the moun- 
tains—Interesting geographical task—TForged birch-bark manu- 
script—Suspected forgeries 5 ; ; ’ . 194-205 


CHAPTER XIII 
TO THE HEADWATERS OF THE YURUNG-KASH 


Start for the mountains—Debouchure of Yurung-kash R.—Through 
the outer ranges-——Crossing of Ulugh-Dawan—Trying march to 
Buya—In the Pisha Valley—A centenarian hillman—* Kuen-luen 
Peak No. 5”—A grand panorama—Precipitous descent—Arrival 
in Karanghu-tagh—A penal settlement—A gloomy vale—Start 
from Karanghu-tagh—March to Yurung-kash Gorge—Hot spring 
—Wild river-bed—Attempt to Coun gorge—Forced to turn 
back—Climbing on Yaks } , : . 206-224 


CHAPTER XIV 


OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES 


A terra incognita-—-A hidden mountain track—Crossing of Pom-tagh 
Pass—In the Nissa Valley—Mythic Nysa of Dionysus—Difficult 


XXXxil CONTENTS 

PAGE 
tent-pitching—Survey above Brinjak Pass—Panorama of glaciers 
—A trying descent—Combination of ice and dust—Distrustful 
hillmen—View from Yagan Dawan—Maze of eroded ridges— 
Through fantastic gorges—Want of water—March in Mitaz 
Valley —Climb to Ulughat-Dawan— Extensive panorama — 
Identification of ice-peaks—Connection with Indian Surveys— 
Waiting for water—Night on Ulughat-Dawan—Moonlight over 
desert plains—A magic city—Triangulation of Khotan—Descent 
to Kara-kash Valley—Return to arid ae ably of Kauruk- 
kuz—Successful triangulation . ‘ . 225-243 


CHAPTER XV 
ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS AT KHOTAN 


Visit to Mount Gosringa—Legend of hidden Arhat—In a sacred cave 
—Easy-going Muhammadans—Return to Khotan town—Antiques 
brought by Turdi—Visits of Pan-Darin—The blessing of ‘ Tang- 
Seng’—Camp in Akhun Beg’s garden—Medical functions—Ram 
Singh’s departure—Remains of Chalmakazan—Among the jade- 
pits—Speculative jade-mining—Fame of Khotan jade . . 244-255 


CHAPTER XVI 
YOTKAN, THE SITE OF THE ANCIENT CAPITAL 


Camels stuck in ‘ Yars ’—First discovery of Yotkan site—Washing for 
gold—Antiques as secondary products—Ancient coins and pottery 
—Oulture-strata of Yotkan—Silt over culture-strata— Alluvial 
deposits on irrigated ground—Rising of ground level—Site of 
ancient capital—Position of Sa-mo-joh Convent—Lingering local 
worship—lIdentification of Buddhist shrines—The marsh of 
Halalbagh—A learned Mullah—Abu Bakr’s excavations—Pre- 
parations for winter ; F 4 P : ', 256-269 


CHAPTER XVII 


TO THE RUINS OF DANDAN-UILIQ 


Start for desert campaign—At Tawakkel oasis— Recruiting of diggers 
—Hunters as guides—Preparations at Tawakkel—Failure of local 


CONTENTS XXxXlil 


PAGE 
dentistry—Start into desert—Camping in wintry desert—Arctic 
clothing—Turdi guides through sand-dunes—Arrival at Dandan- 
Uiliq—First survey of ruins—Fuel from ancient orchards . 270-280 


CHAPTER XVIII 
EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES 


Stueco-relievos of ruined shrine—Excavation of temple-cellas —Con- 
struction of walls—Decoration of cellas—Buddhist frescoes— 
Sculptures in chapel—Painted panels—Ancient brooms—In- 
teresting relievos—Scenes represented in frescoes—Legend of 
Naga lady—Picture of Buddhist scholars : : . 281-294 


CHAPTER XIX : 
FIRST FINDS OF ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS 


Excavation of monastic dwelling—First leaf unearthed—Sanskrit 
manuscript finds— Discovery of Sanskrit ‘ Pothi’ — Buddhist 
canonical text—Cook-room of monastic dwelling—Return of Ram 
Singh — Rendezvous in desert—Accuracy of surveys — “ The 
Aksakal of the Taklamakan ’’—Turdi’s old pony—A failed specu- 
lation——An antique fodder store—End of ill-fated animal . 295-306 


CHAPTER XX 
DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS 


Finds in ruined monastery—Picture of rat-king—Documents in 
unknown language—Probable contents—Finds of Chinese records 
—An ancient petition—Ancient name of Dandan-Uiliq—Christ- 
mas Day in desert—Lost among dunes—‘ Yolchi Beg,’ fox- 
terrier—The Hu-kuo monastery—Its Chinese documents—Date 
of its abandonment—More painted panels—Ancient ‘ horse- 
millinery ”—Persian art influence — Buddhist pictorial art— 
Traces of old cultivation—Abandonment of settlement—Probable 
cause of abandonment. ; ‘ : ; . 807-324 


iL Seek 


Xxxiv CONTENTS 


CHAPTER XXI 


THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA 
PAGE 
Departure from Dandan-Uiliq—Remains of Rawak—Dismissal of 
Tawakkel labourers—Start for Keriya Darya—Formidable sand- 
dunes—Crossing of ‘ Dawans’—Arrival at frozen river—Desert 
shrine of Burhanuddin—Jungle of Keriya R.— Welcome at 
Keriya—The Amban of Keriya—Visits of state—Halt in Keriya 
town : : ‘ ; . ; ‘ . 325-338 


CHAPTER XXII 
TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFAR SADIK 


View of Kuen-luen—Yesyulghun and Ovraz—Oasis of Niya—Ramzan 
festival—A promising find—First Kharoshthi tablets — March 
along Niya River — Reclamation of jungle ground — Winter 
atmosphere of desert— Through riverine jungle—Shrine of | 
Imam Jafar Sadik—Exhibition of textile ex-votos—Tomb on 
sacred hill—Start for ancient site—Transport of ice—Where the’ 
Niya R. loses itself—Through dead forest—Ancient houses sighted 
—Arrival at ruins ‘ : ‘ ; . 889-3538 


CHAPTER XXIII 
FIRST EXCAVATION OF KHAROSHTHI TABLETS 


Search of first find-place—Ibrahim’s chance discovery—An abundant 
haul—Varieties of inscribed wooden tablets—Type of Kharoshthi 
writing—First decipherment—Language of records—Clearing of 
rooms—More documents discovered—Wedge-shaped and oblong 
tablets — Dated records—FErosive power of wind—Structures 
attacked by erosion ; é : , ‘ . 854-368 


CHAPTER XXIV 
EXCAVATION OF ANCIENT RESIDENCES 


Decayed records on wood—Ancient ice-pit-—Large dwelling-houses— 
An old reception-hall—Excavations in deep sand—Remains of 


CONTENTS XXXV 


PAGE 
coloured rug—Broken arms from storage room—Ancient carved 
chair—Antique furniture—Plan of an ancient garden—Dead 
poplars and fruit trees—Troublesome followers—Niaz Akhun’s 
truculent propensities—Quarrel with camel-man—Affray in desert 
camp—‘ The evil spirits of the Desert ”’ : > 4 869-884 


CHAPTER XXV 
DISCOVERIES IN AN ANTIQUE RUBBISH HEAP 


Discovery of ancient rubbish layers—Survey of Stupa ruin—Ancient 
‘“waste-paper ’ deposits—Clearing of consolidated refuse—Antique 
microbes—Kharoshthi documents on leather—Technicalities of 
wooden stationery — Fastening of ancient envelopes—Classical 
seals in clay—Pallas Athene and Eros—Symbols of classical 
influence . ; : , ‘ é F . 885-397 


CHAPTER XXVI 


DECIPHERMENT OF ANCIENT DOCUMENTS ON WOOD 
AND LEATHER 


Prakrit language of Kharoshthi records— Ancient official corre- 
spondence—Titles of officials—Sanskrit introductions—Old names 
of Khotan—Tradition of Indian immigration—Khotan colonized 
from Taxila—Unique tablet in Brahmi—Chronological evidence 
—Chinese dated record —Commercial relations with China— 
Relics of ancient industry—Architectural wood-carving . 398-408 


CHAPTER XXVII 
THE RUINS OF ENDERE 


Return to Imam Jafar Sadik—To the Yartungaz River—A forlorn 
colony—Vagaries of Yartungaz River—Through the desert to 
Endere River—Arrival at Endere Stupa—A successful concen- 
tration—Ancient circumvallation—Excayvation of temple—Manu- 
script finds—Leaves in unknown language—Tibetan manuscripts 
—Oldest known Tibetan writing—Records of Tibetan invasion— 
Date in Chinese graffito—Ancient ex-votos of rags—Remains of 
ancient ramparts—Survey of Stupa : ; ; . 409-422 


XXXvVl CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


EXPEDITION TO KARADONG RUINS 
PAGE 


Return towards Niya—On the desert track to Cherchen—‘‘ Home 
mails ’’—Forced marches to Keriya—Help of Amban—Start for 
Karadong— Along the Keriya River—The shepherds of the 
riverine jungle—Guides from Tonguz-baste—The first sand-storm 
—Arrival at Karadong—A legend of Hiuen-tsiang— Ancient 
fortified post—Excavation of ruins—Finds of ancient cereals— 
Return of ‘Buran’—Sad news . : : ; . 423-483 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE SEARCH FOR HIUEN-TSIANG’S PI-MO 


March back along Keriya River—Through the Shivul swamps—In 
new cultivation—Difficulty about guides—Deserted village sites 
—Shifts of irrigated area—Legend of Ho-lo-lo-kia—An Odyssey 
amidst the dunes—Remains at Uzun-tati—Lachin-Ata Mazar— 
The oasis of Gulakhma— Farewell visit to Keriya—Oases of 
Chira and Sampula—‘ Tati’ of Hanguya—Return to Khotan 
environs . ; : - : ; : . 484-445 


CHAPTER XXX 
AK-SIPIL AND THE SCULPTURES OF THE RAWAK STUPA 


Halt at Yurung-kash—“ Culture-strata ’’ of Tam-Oghil—March to 
Ak-sipil—Remains of ancient fort—Sculpture from Kighillik—A 
huge refuse-heap— Discovery of Rawak Stupa— Succession of 
sand-storms—Trying heat and glare—Plan of Stupa—Excavation 
in Stupa court—Clearing of colossal statues—Threatened collapse 
of images—Risks of excavation— Wealth of statuary—Interesting 
relievos—‘“ Guardians of the Gates ’””"—A quaint ex-voto—Affinity 
to Greco-Buddhist art—Numismatic finds— Date of Stupa— 
Removal of relievos—Burying of sculptures. : . 446-468 


CONTENTS XXXVI 


CHAPTER XXXI 


ISLAM AKHUN AND HIS FORGERIES 
PAGE 
Return to Khotan—Quarters at Nar-Bagh—Interviews with Pan- 
Darin — Purchases of ‘‘old books’’— Suspicions about Islam 
Akhun — Arrest of Islam Akhun— His previous impostures— 
Queer papers seized on him—An improvised ‘‘ Cutchery ’—Cross- 
examination of forger—Convicted by his own statements—Islam 
Akhun’s admissions—Associates in the factory—Manufacture of 
‘old books’’—Methods of production—The forger’s confessions 
—Wit and humour of Islam Akhun ; ; ’ . 469-481 


CHAPTER XXXII 
LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS 


Farewell to Pan-Darin—Departure from Khotan town—‘ Tips” in 
Turkestan—Last visit to Yotkan—Petty trade of oasis—Foreign 
colonies—Visit to Kara-kash town—Site of Kara-débe—Leave- 
taking of Turdi—Niaz Akhun’s matrimonial entanglement— 
Farewell to Khotan friends—An offering at the ‘* Pigeons’ 
Shrine” . ‘ ‘ ; : : tn . 482-489 


CHAPTER XXXIII 
FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON 


Rapid marches to Yarkand—Return to Kashgar—Demobilisation of 
caravan—Agsistance from Russian Consul-General—Among old 
friends—Packing of antiquities—Farewell to faithful companions 
—Start for Osh—Over the Alai Passes—Down the Gulcha Valley 
—Welcome at Osh—In Russian Turkestan—The Andijan Bazars 
—Moghul monuments—From Samarkand to the Caspian—Arrival 
in London—Temporary work on collection—Conclusion - 490-502 


INDEX ; , : ‘ 2 ; : . 508-524 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


SEATED BUDDHA, BETWEEN TORSOS OF COLOSSAL STATUES, RAWAK STUPA Frontispiece 


PAGE 
MOHAND MARG, KASHMIR . : J : ; : : Sei! 
ANCIENT TEMPLE AT PANDRENTHAN, KASHMIR : 4 , 7 a ANG, 
VIEW IN BURZIL VALLEY . F : f : j é Fe Hi 
MIR’S CASTLE AT BALTIT . : : : F ; A . 29 
CLIFFS OF NILTH GORGE, NAGIR . ‘ : ; : : x 155] 
STUPA OF THOL, NAGIR . . s : ? : i - 35 
MOUNT RAKIPOSHI, SEEN FROM ALIABAD . i . ? , are: 
HUNZA COOLIES, BEFORE START FROM ALIABAD J ; ‘ fA eT 
FORT-VILLAGE OF ALTIT . } ; , : 4 : a ao 
RAFIK ABOVE ATAABAD : . : : A : ss » 44 
WAKHI VILLAGERS, GHULMIT f ; : A ; : . 46 
VIEW TO NORTH-EAST OF PASU VILLAGE . : } : 5 5 48 
BATUR GLACIER, SEEN FROM SOUTH-EAST . : P ‘ , . 49 
HUNZA VALLEY BELOW KHAIBAR. : : * : : . 60 
RAFIK NEAR MURKHUN : : : dl : F ‘ yy aia 
KANJUTIS CARRYING MERCHANDISE . : 5 : A : . o2 
KANJUTI HILLMEN, DISCHARGED AT MISGAR : : : 3 . dd 
YAKS STARTING FOR KILIK PASS . “ d : : ‘ $e Saf 
KILIK PASS, SEEN FROM KHUSHBEL 3 : z ; ; Ngye} 
SNOWY RANGE SOUTH OF HEAD OF AB-I-PANJA VALLEY ; ‘ A ae Teal 
PHOTO-THEODOLITE VIEW OF OXUS SOURCE GLACIERS : , , , [262 
VIEW DOWN AB-I-PANJA VALLEY FROM NEAR WAKHJIR PASS : 2 4 
KIRGHIZ ‘ AK-UIS’ AT TIGHARMAN-SU : ’ ‘ : u ra ats) 
WAKHIS AND KIRGHIZ AT DAFDAR . , 4 : Fe : 4) {6%} 


XXxix 


xl . LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 
CHINESE FORT WITHIN RUINED TOWN OF TASHKURGHAN . : 5 a Al 
IN THE CEMETERY OF TIZNAF : ; ; , 5 ; afk 
CHINESE GARRISON OF SUBASHI. x : 2 ; { two 
MUZTAGH-ATA PEAKS, SEEN FROM ABOVE YAMBULAK VALLEY , ; . 84 
ICY RANGE, WITH SARGULUK PEAK, TO NORTH-EAST OF KARAKUL LAKE. SD) 
MUZTAGH-ATA PEAKS, SEEN FROM CAMP SOUTH OF LAKE KARAKUL ; enol 
VIEW FROM ABOVE YAMBULAK GLACIER LOOKING WESTWARDS j : 2 ANTS 
ICY RANGE WITH PEAKS ABOVE KONGUR-DEBE AND KOKSEL GLACIERS i . 104 
START FOR GEZ DEFILE . : : ; ; ; j . 106 
ASCENT OF SHAGILDIK DAWAN y ‘ 4 . , Seats; 
ROAD TO MR. MACARTNEY’S HOUSE, WITH CITY WALL, KASHGAR . : . 120 
PRIEST IN LIU-KIN-TANG’S SHRINE . : é ; 5 ’ . 135 
IN THE BAZAR OF THE “‘ NEW CITY,” KASHGAR. : : A _. 136 
MY SERVANTS FROM KASHGAR AND YARKAND ; : ; . Posie 
CARAVAN STARTING FROM KASHGAR : { : , : 3389 
BEGS AND AKSAKAL OF BESHKARIM : : : 4 : . 142 
RUINED STUPA OF MAURI TIM A ‘ : : ' ; . 147 
HINDU MONEYLENDERS é P ° ‘ : é ; . boll 
PILGRIMS’ SARAI AT ORDAM-PADSHAH ; ’ 4 : : . 156 
ENTRANCE TO THE YAMEN, YARKAND : ‘ : F , . 161 
BADAKHSHANI TRADER, YARKAND . F i ; : ‘. . 165 
LIU-DARIN, AMBAN OF YARKAND . : ; ; ; ; HALO). 
YETIMLUKUM MAZAR, WITH CEMETERY, NEAR KARGHALIK . ; 3 . 175 
BUDDHIST MONK FROM CHINA : ; : : ine : . 178 
MENDICANT, OR ‘DIWANA’ . 5 ; } : fit ; . 186 
HOUSE OF TOKHTA AKHUN, KHOTAN : 5 : ; F . 199 
PAN-DARIN, AMBAN OF KHOTAN, WITH PERSONAL ATTENDANTS : : . 200 
MUZTAGH PEAK, IN KUEN-LUEN RANGE : ; : ; 4 . 206 
TAGHLIKS AND EXILED CRIMINALS AT KARANGHU-TAGH  . : 216 
VIEW UP THE YURUNG-KASH GORGE, WITH SPURS OF, PEAK K. 5 ON LEFT eal’) 
YAKS CARRYING BAGGAGE IN YURUNG-KASH GORGE, NEAR KARANGHU-TAGH ele 
KUEN-LUEN RANGE, WITH GLACIERS OF NISSA VALLEY, SEEN. FROM BRINJAK . 230 
ERODED RANGES TO NORTH-WEST, SEEN FROM ABOVE YAGAN-DAWAN : . 234 
TURDI, ‘‘ TREASURE SEEKER” é i 5 Z : . 248 


KHOTANESE WAITING FOR MEDICINES 5 < ‘ ‘ A . 250 


SPECIMENS OF ARCHITECTURAL WOOD-CARVING, FROM RUINED DWELLING-HOUSE 


(N. vr). 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xhi 
PAGE 
JADE-PIT WITH DIGGERS, NEAR DEBOUCHURE OF YURUNG-KASH . é 253 
NORTH-WEST CORNER OF EXCAVATED AREA AT YOTKAN, WITH ENTRANCE To ‘YAR’ 258 
ANTIQUES FROM YOTKAN . - ; 260 
TERRA-COTTA FIGURINES FROM YOTKAN 4 261 
OLD VILLAGERS OF SOMIYA 266 
CAMELS STARTING FOR DANDAN-UILIQ 3 . 270 
AHMAD MERGHEN AND KASIM AKHUN, OF TAWAKKEL 272 
TAWAKKEL LABOURERS TAKEN TO DANDAN-UILIQ. . 274 
CAMP IN THE DESERT, DANDAN-UILIQ . 281 
RUINS OF BUDDHIST SHRINE, D. Il., AT DANDAN-UILIQ, BEFORE EXCAVATION 283 
CELLA OF BUDDHIST SHRINE, D. II., AT DANDAN-UILIQ, AFTER EXCAVATION 285 
FRESCO FROM OUTER WALL OF SHRINE, D. II., DANDAN-UILIQ 287 
SMALLER CELLA OF BUDDHIST SHRINE, D. Il., AT DANDAN-UILIQ, AFTER EXCAVATION . 289 
ROOM OF MONASTIC DWELLING, D. ITI., DANDAN-UILIQ, FIND-PLACE OF ANCIENT 
MANUSCRIPTS . , : - 295 
LEAF OF BRAHMI MANUSCRIPT, IN NON-INDIAN LANGUAGE, FROM MONASTIC 
DWELLING, D. III. ; 298 
_ OBVERSE OF PORTION OF LEAF, OF BUDDHIST TEXT IN SANSKRIT (VAJRACCHEDIKA), 
FROM D. III. 5 298 
ANCIENT ‘TAKHTA’ FOR WRITING . y : , : . B10 
CHINESE DOCUMENT (D. VII. 2), CONTAINING BOND, FROM DANDAN-UILIQ, DATED 
A.D. 782 , 316 
CHINESE WOODEN TABLET, N. xy. 315 . 316 
STREET IN SUBURB OF KERIYA a 334 
HUANG-DALOI, AMBAN OF KERIYA . 5 335 
VILLAGE BOYS AT NIYA : 343 
TREES WITH EX-VOTOS, ON PATH TO IMAM JAFAR SADIK’S TOMB . . 348 
RUINS OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE (N. UI.), WITH GARDEN : é 354 
RUINED BUILDING (N. 1), FIRST FIND-PLACE OF INSCRIBED TABLETS, AFTER 
EXCAVATION . : N : : ; - ‘ . B56 
KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENTS ON WOODEN TABLETS ; , : : 359 
KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON WOOD, UNDER-TABLET (N. IV. 139). . 4 366 
ANCIENT WOODEN PEN, WITH BONE KNOB (FROM N. XV). . . : . 366 


xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 
REMAINS OF ANCIENT HOUSES, AT GROUP OF RUINS N. II. : ; ae ffi 
PORTION OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE (N. Il.), BEFORE EXCAVATION : . 373 


NORTH WALL OF CENTRAL HALL OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE (N. III.), DURING 


EXCAVATION . ; : : ; ; ; H aan 
ANCIENT WOODEN CHAIR, FROM RUINED DWELLING-HOUSE N. III. ; B76 
ANCIENT HOUSEHOLD IMPLEMENTS, ETC., MAINLY FROM RUINED DWELLING N. Iv. . 378 
PLAN OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE N. IV. 2 ; . \ . 880 
CLAY IMPRESSIONS OF CLASSICAL SEALS, FROM KHAROSHTHI TABLETS : . 885 
RUINED STUPA, AT ANCIENT SITE BEYOND IMAM JAFAR SADIK : ’ . 386 


RUINED DWELLING-PLACE, CONTAINING ANCIENT RUBBISH HEAP (N. KV.) SEEN 


FROM SOUTH-EAST — . ; : : : : , . 388 
ANCIENT RUBBISH HEAP (N. XV.), IN COURSE OF EXCAVATION : : . 389 
ANCIENT KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON LEATHER (N. xv. 310) : : . 390 
KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON DOUBLE WOODEN TABLET (N. Xv. 137) . 892 
DIAGRAMS OF WEDGE-SHAPED DOUBLE TABLET : : ba , . 393 
COVERING TABLETS OF KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENTS ON woop (N. xv. 133, 167, 330), 
WITH SEALS : : 4 : : . B94 
KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON DOUBLE OBLONG TABLET (N. xv. 166) 4 . 395 
SEAL-IMPRESSIONS IN CLAY, FROM KHAROSHTHI TABLETS .« é ; . 396 
REMAINS OF ANCIENT TREES, NEAR SAND-BURIED DWELLING-PLACE N. VIII. . 398 
ANCIENT KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON LEATHER (N. Xv. 305) ; f . 401 
RUINED BUILDINGS WITHIN ENDERE FORT . : ; : S . 409 
INTERIOR OF RUINED TEMPLE CELLA, ENDERE, AFTER EXCAVATION 4 . 415 


TWO LEAVES IN CENTRAL-ASIAN BRAHMI, FROM PAPER ROLL (E. I. 7), FOUND IN. 


ENDERE TEMPLE : : : : * : ; . 416 
HALF-LEAF OF TIBETAN MS.. ON PAPER, FROM ENDERE TEMPLE (E. I. 32) . 417 
LOWER FLOOR ROOM OF RUINED DWELLING-PLACE, ENDERE FORT . ; . 421 
INTERIOR OF RUINED QUADRANGLE, KARADONG K : : . 429 
WOODEN GATEWAY OF RUINED QUADRANGLE, KARADONG, AFTER EXCAVATION . 432 
BOYS AND GIRLS AT KERIYA, IN HOLIDAY DRESS : : : . 442 
VILLAGE CHILDREN, KERIYA , nN f : : . 444 
EXCAVATIONS PROCEEDING ALONG SOUTH-EAST WALL OF RAWAK STUPA COURT . 446 
RAWAK STUPA, SEEN FROM SOUTH CORNER OF COURT : . 450 


COLOSSAL STATUES WITH SEATED BUDDHA, IN SOUTH CORNER OF RAWAK STUPA 


COURT, AFTER EXCAVATION : x ‘ : . 464 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


xlili 


PAGE 


RELIEVO STATUES OF RAWAK STUPA COURT, SOUTH-WEST WALL, AFTER EXCAVATION 

RELIEVO SCULPTURES ON OUTER SOUTH-EAST WALL OF RAWAK STUPA COURT, IN 
COURSE OF EXCAVATION ; : : 

“RELIEVO STATUE OF BODHISATTVA (R. IV.), ON SOUTH-WEST WALL, RAWAK STUPA 
COURT ; ; ; ; ; : : ; 3 

COLOSSAL STATUES ON OUTER WALLS OF SOUTH CORNER OF RAWAK STUPA COURT. 

TORSOS OF COLOSSAL STATUES ALONG INNER SOUTH-EAST WALL 

TORSOS OF STATUES (DVARAPALAS) AT GATE OF RAWAK STUPA COURT : A 

STUCCO HEAD OF SMALL BUDDHA OR BODHISATTVA, ORIGINALLY PAINTED, FROM 
RAWAK STUPA COURT . ; ; ; ; : ; 

STUCCO HEAD OF SMALL BUDDHA OR BODHISATTVA, RETAINING ORIGINAL 
COLOURING, FROM RAWAK STUPA COURT ; 3 ' : i 

ISLAM AKHUN ; ; ’ ; 

IN A KHOTAN BAZAR ’ , é , : ; : , 

BADRUDDIN KHAN AND AFGHAN TRADER, KHOTAN 

HALT ON THE MARCH DOWN THE GULCHA VALLEY, FARGHANA : , : 

RAM SINGH AND JASVANT SINGH, WITH ‘ YOLCHI BEG,’ IN MR. MACARTNEY’S 
GARDEN, KASHGAR j A : : ; 

IN THE BAZAR OF OSH, FARGHANA. | : ; : ; , ” 

AT SAMARKAND: MARKET WITH RUINED MOSQUES IN BACKGROUND 


KIRGHIZ FAMILY ON THE MARCH , . . . 


456 


. 458 


459 
461 
462 
463 


. 464 


467 
472 
482 
485 
490 


494 
497 
500 
502 


Sand-buried Ruins 


CHAPTER I 


of Khotan 


CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR 


MOHAND MARG, KASHMIR. 


Ir was from the 
Alpine plateau . of 
Mohand Marg, my 
beloved camping- 
ground for three 
Kashmir summers, 
that I had in June, 
1898, submitted to 
the Indian Govern- 
ment the first 
scheme of the ex- 
plorations which 
were to take me 
across the great 
mountain barriers 
northward and into 
the distant deserts 
of Khotan. Almost 
two years had passed 
when I found myself, 


early in May, 1900, again in Kashmir and within sight of 


9 


1 


2 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR [cHaP. I. 


Mohand Marg. With a glow of satisfaction I could look 
up to the crest of the high spur, some 10,000 feet above 
the sea and still covered with snow, on which my tent had 
stood, and where my plans had been formed. It had taken 
two years, and bulky files of correspondence; but at last I 
had secured what was needed—freedom to move, and the 
means requisite for my journey. 

In the meantime official duty, and minor archeological 
tours to which I devoted my vacations, had taken me over 
widely different parts of India. From Lahore, where during 
eleven long years, amidst the worries and cares of University 
office work, I had ever felt the refreshing touch of the true 
East and the fascination of a great historical past, I had been 
transferred to Calcutta. With its strangely un-Indian con- 
ditions of life, its want of breathing space, and its damp heat, 
the “city of palaces” appeared to me like a tropical suburb 
of London. From there I had visited Sikkim, that strange 
half-Tibetan mountain-land where true Alpine scenery is in- 
‘aded by the luxuriant vegetation of the tropics. I had 
wandered in South Bihar, the ancient Magadha, tracing the 
footsteps of Hiuen-Tsiang, the great Chinese pilgrim, among 
the ruins of the sacred Buddhist sites which he had seen and 
described more than twelve hundred years ago. Also the 
fascinating tracts along the Indus and the North-West 
Frontier, where the influence of classical art has left its 
witnesses in the ancient ‘ Greco-Buddhist’ sculptures of so 
many a ruined monastery and shrine, had seen me once more 
on a flying visit. 

The thought of the task which was drawing me beyond the 
Himalaya had followed me everywhere. But it was only when 
the final sanction for my proposals reached me on a sultry 
monsoon night down in Caleutta that I had been able to start 
some of the multifarious preparations which the journey de- 
manded. Busy as I was with official duties and literary work 
that had to be concluded before leaving India, I managed to 


CHAP. I.] UP THE JHELAM VALLEY 3 


arrange for the supply of many articles of equipment, both 
personal and scientific. The tents which I had ordered from 
the Cawnpore Elgin Mills; the galvanised iron water-tanks, 
made at Calcutta workshops, that were to serve in the desert ; 
the stores of condensed food, the photographic outfit, and the 
semi-arctic winter clothing which I had indented for from 
London—all were slowly moving up to Srinagar, whence my 
little expedition was to start. 

But only in Kashmir itself, and not in over-civilised Calcutta, 
was it possible to complete my practical preparations. So I 
could not entirely suppress a feeling of unholy joy when an 
increase of plague, or rather the fear of it, caused Calcutta 
colleges to be closed some weeks in anticipation of the usual 
summer vacation. On the 10th of April I was free to escape 
northward. It was a source of satisfaction to me that on the 
day of my departure I was ‘able personally to take leave of 
the late Sir John Woodburn, Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, 
and to express my deep gratitude for all the kind help and 
interest with which he had furthered my undertaking. 

The week I spent in Lahore in order to pick up various 
portions of my outfit and to supervise their despatch passed 
rapidly amid old friends and surroundings dear to me. After 
Calcutta the Punjab spring appeared still comparatively cool. 
All the same I enjoyed as keenly as ever the invigorating 
change to the fresh air of the hills when the Tonga carried 
me from Rawalpindi first to the fir-covered heights of Murree, 
and then along the Jhelam Valley up towards Kashmir. 
Often had I done this journey along the ancient Hydaspes, 
where it rushes down, towards the plains in an almost wnin- 


terrupted succession of rapids and cataracts, but never so early 
in the year. Whether it was the sight and fragrance of the 
shrubs still in blossom along the road, or the glittering caps 
of snow still lying on many of the higher spurs, or simply the 
prospect of a year’s explorations, never had this drive of nearly 
two days appeared to me so enjoyable. 


4 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR [CHAP. I. 


On the 25th of April I passed once more into the Kashmir 
Valley by the gorge of Baramula, now as in ancient days the 
“Western Gate of the Kingdom.’ The snow still lay low 
down the mighty Pir Pantsal range which forms the southern 
rampart between Kashmir and the outer world. But the great 
riverine plain which opens out just beyond Baramula was 
decked in all the gay colours of a Kashmir spring, blue and 
white irises growing in profusion over village cemeteries and 

other waste spaces. At Baramula, where my servants, sent 
ahead with the heavy baggage, awaited me, I took to boats for 
the remaining journey to Srinagar; for old experience had 
shown me the convenience and attractions of river communi- 
cation in Kashmir. The day I spent gliding in my comfort- 
able ‘Dunga’ through the limpid water of the great lagoons 
which fringe the Volur Lake, and along the winding course of 
the Jhelam, gave delightful repose such as did not again fall 
to my share for many months. Familiar to me as are que 
loca fabulosus lambit Hydaspes, there was plenty to feast 
my eyes upon. The floating meadows of water-lilies and 
other aquatic plants which cover the marshes; the vivid 
foliage of the great Chinar trees which shade all hamlets and 
Ghats along the river banks; the brilliant snowfields on the 
Pir Pantsal, and the higher ranges to the north over which my 
road was soon to lead—these and all the other splendours of 
Kashmir spring scenery will never lose their charm for me. 

During the second night the boat passed the winding 
reaches in which the river traverses Srinagar, and the next 
morning found me once more in the Chinar Bagh, my old 
camping-ground in the Kashmir capital. With the increasing 
crowd of European visitors from the Indian plains, the shady 
grove by the side of the ‘‘ Apple Tree Canal” has long ago 
ceased to be a place suited for work or even quiet enjoyment. 
But haunted as it is at all hours of the day by the versatile 
Kashmir traders and craftsmen who provide for the Sahibs’ 

camping requirements, it was just the place adapted for the 


CHAP. I.] PREPARATIONS IN KASHMIR Cap 


purpose of my first stay at Srinagar. There were plenty of 
orders to give for mule trunks and leather-covered baskets or 
‘ Kiltas,’ in which stores, instruments, &c., were to be 
packed. Fur coats and warm winter clothing of all sorts had 
to be provided to protect myself and my followers against the 
cold of the Pamirs and the Turkestan winter; bags to carry 
provisions, and all the other paraphernalia which my previous 
experience showed to be necessary for a protracted campaign 
in the mountains. Clever and intelligent as the Kashmir 
craftsman ordinarily is, it requires protracted interviews to 
ensure that the work he is going to execute is really that 
intended. So what with endless particulars to be explained, 
and all the bargaining which local custom renders indispen- 
sable, there remained little time during these busy days to 
collect information on the important questions affecting the 
first part of my journey. 

The Government of India in the Foreign Department had 
granted me permission to use the Gilgit-Hunza route for my 
journey to Kashgar. The special conditions prevailing along 
the ‘‘Gilgit Transport Road’ made it necessary to give 
timely and exact intimation as to the amount of transport re- 
quired, the number of followers, &c., all the more as the time 
I had fixed for my start, the end of May, was in advance of the 
regular transport season. Luckily, Captain G. H. Bretherton, 
p.s.0., Assistant Commissary-General for Kashmir, to whom 
I had to apply in the matter of these arrangements, proved 
exceptionally able and willing to afford information. Guided 
by his experience, I was soon in a position to prepare with 
fair accuracy my estimates as to the time, means of transport, 
and supplies needed not only up to Hunza, but also beyond 
towards the Chinese frontier. It was no small advantage to 
obtain quickly a clear working plan of these practical details. 
For upon the exact information which I could send ahead to 
Gilgit and Kashgar depended my hope of securing, without 
loss of time, all that was needful for the onward journey. 


6 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR [CHAP> I. 


I was heartily glad when I succeeded within five busy days 
in disposing of these preliminaries. The few weeks which 
remained to me in Kashmir were none too long for the literary 
tasks that had to be completed before my departure. For 
over ten years past I had devoted whatever leisure I could 
spare from official duties to work connected in one form or 
another with Kalhana’s ‘‘ Chronicle of the Kings of Kashmir.” 
The Sanskrit text of the great poem, the only record of a truly 
historical nature that exists in the classical literature of India, 
and one full of interest for the student of Indian antiquities, 
religion, geography, &c., had long ago been edited by me. 
But my translation and commentary required protracted 
researches into all that has survived of ancient Kashmir in 
records, traditions, and antiquarian lore, and the two stout 
quarto volumes which they filled in print were only now 
approaching completion. The introduction which was to 
give an account of these labours still remained to be 
written, and in order to complete it in time, together with 
some minor tasks of a similar kind, seclusion was indis- 
pensable. 

“To go into Purdah,’’ as our Lahore phrase ran, within 
Srinagar or its immediate environs, was well-nigh impossible, 
and Mohand Marg, my mountain retreat of former seasons, 
was still covered with snow. My knowledge of Kashmir 
topography, however, stood me in good stead, and after a short 
search at the debouchure of the great Sind Valley over which 
Mohand Marg rises, I found near the hamlet of Dudarhom a 
delightfully quiet grove by the river-bank where I could pitch 
my tents. There under the shade of majestic Chinars and 
within view of the snow-covered spurs of Mount Haramukh, 
I was soon hard at work from morning till evening. It was 
not an easy task to sum up and review the results of labours 
that had extended over so long a period and over so wide a 
field. Yet I felt grateful that I was able to bid farewell to 
them, while having that Alpine scenery before my eyes with 


CHAP. I. ] CAMP ON SIND RIVER 7 


which I shall ever associate the happiest recollections of my 
Kashmir researches. But still more cheering, perhaps, was 
the thought of the new field of exploration that awaited me 
northward, far beyond the ranges I had viewed from my 
‘Marg.’ Undisturbed by intrusion of any kind, these three 
short weeks afforded leisure for concentrated work which, after 
the preceding ‘“‘rush,’’ seemed almost as enjoyable as if it had 
been a period of rest. 

On the 23rd of May I completed the last of the tasks for the 
sake of which I had retired to my peaceful camping-ground. 
The date fixed for my start was drawing near, and with it 
came the necessity for returning to bustling Srinagar for the 
last preparations. Thanks to the convenient water-way pro- 
vided by the Anchar Lake and the ancient Mar Canal, a 
single night passed in boats sufficed to bring me into the 
Kashmir capital. I found the grounds usually occupied by 
European visitors more crowded than I had ever seen them. 
Lines of house-boats along the river-banks and endless rows 
of tents in all the ‘Baghs’ seemed to leave no room for a 
new arrival. Fortunately, in years gone by I had had ample 
occasion to study the topography of Srinagar, in its modern as 
well as its ancient aspects, and thus I discovered at last a 
spot for my camp, on the narrow strip of ground which lines 
the west foot of the Takht-i-Sulaiman hill towards the Dal 
Lake. Hidden behind willow plantations and “floating 
gardens”’ peculiar to the lake, the little Bagh of Buchvor 
offered the needed quiet to complete my arrangements. 

Busy indeed were the days I passed there. All details of 
the camp outfit had to be revised; the freshly arrived stores 
to be sorted and packed into loads for pony transport ; survey- 
ing and other instruments to be tested and protected against 
damage ; and amid these preparations there were accounts 
to be settled and farewell visits to be received. Numerous 
were the questions of my Pandit friends which I had to answer 
as to the place and object of my journey. More conversant 


8 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR [CHAP. I. 


though they are with mythical than with real geography, 
yet I found that my reference to the ‘ Uttarakurus’ (the 
Ultima Thule of Indian mythology) as the land for which 
IT was about to set out, did not altogether satisfy their 
curiosity. 

Ram Singh, the Gurkha Sub-Surveyor, whose services 
Colonel St. George Gore, R.#., the Surveyor-General of India, 
had very kindly placed at my disposal, together with a com- 
plete outfit of surveying instruments, joined me punctually on 
the day of my arrival at Srinagar. He had accompanied 
Captain Deasy in his recent travels near the sources of the 
Yarkand River and in the Kuen-luen mountains, and the 
practical acquaintance he had thus gained of the regions I was 
about to visit-proved useful at once in the course of my pre- 
parations. With Ram Singh came Jasvant Singh, a wiry 
little Kangra Rajput, who was to attend to the Sub-Surveyor as 
cook and personal servant. He too had travelled in Chinese 
Turkestan as one of Captain Deasy’s followers. 

On the 28th of May there arrived Sadak Akhun, the 
Turkestan servant whom Mr. George Macartney, ¢.1.6., the 
British representative at Kashgar, had been kind enough to 
engage for me. He had left his home in the first half of 
April and came just in time to start back with me. He was 
to act as cook and ‘ Karawan-bashi’ combined, and was 
welcomed with no small satisfaction by honest Mirza Alim, 
my Kokandi servant, whom I had engaged four months earlier 
in Peshawar for the purpose of my journey. ‘Mirza’ had 
been useful to me by giving me the needed opportunity of 
practising Turki conversation, but willing as he was to pick 
up the novel art of attending to the wants of a ‘Sahib,’ his 
acquirements did not reach far in regard to the kitchen depart- 
ment. His earlier career as a petty trader in Kabul and 
Peshawar had not been a special preparation for these func- 
tions ; and yet his straightforward ways made me anxious to 
retain him. Sadak Akhun’s timely arrival relieved both him 


cHAP. 1] START FROM SRINAGAR 9 


and his master of all uneasiness as to the future arrange- 
ments of the travelling household. For Sadak Akhun had 
brought with him not only the appearance of a smart 
‘ Karawan-bashi,’ but a training in the mysteries of European 
cuisine amply sufficient for my wants. When he turned up 
in his fur-lined cap and coat of unstained azure, and red 
leather top-boots of imposing size, my camp seemed to receive 
at once a touch of Central-Asian colour. 

But it was not only from the Far North that I was 
anxiously expecting during these days a much-needed com- 
plement of my camp. Knowing that no European traveller 
in the parts I was bound for could wholly refuse the rédle of 
the ‘Hakim’ forced upon him by popular belief, I had 
early ordered my medicine case from Messrs. Burroughs 
Wellcome & Co., the great London firm of ‘ Tabloid’’ fame. 
The South African- War and other incidents delayed its arrival 
for months, and even when it had at last been reported by 
telegram as landed at- Calcutta, it seemed doubtful whether 
it would reach me in time. The Indian Post Office does 
indeed provide with its usual efficiency for the wants of the 
distant frontier post of Gilgit. But its power cannot level 
mountains, and as the transport of heavy articles across 
the snow-covered passes was not to begin till later in the 
season, there seemed little chance of that eagerly looked-for 
case ever catching me up if not received before my start from 
Srinagar. 

Fortune seemed to offer a small mark of favour at least in 
this direction. For when, on the evening of the 29th of May, 
the time of departure fixed weeks before, my little flotilla of 
boats was lying opposite to the Srinagar Post Office, worthy 
Lala Mangu Mal, the attentive postmaster, triumphantly 
reported the arrival of the box. When it was at last safely 
deposited in my hands it was time to set out from the Venice 
of India. Gliding-down the dark river under the seven bridges 
which have spanned it since early times, and between the 


10 CALCUTTA TO KASHMIR (CHAP. I. 


massive embankments built with the slabs of ruined temples, 
I could not fail to be impressed with— 


quod mihi supremum tempus in Urbe fit. 


It was midnight before I had seen the last of my old Pandit 
friends, who were waiting each at the Ghat nearest to his 
home to bid me farewell. 


ANCIENT TEMPLE AT PANDRENTHAN, KASHMIR. 


CHAPTER IL 
TO ASTOR AND GILGIT 


WueEn I awoke in_ the 

morning my boat had just 
entered the lagoons which fringe on the east the great Volur 
Lake. A look towards the mountain range which rises 
above it on the north showed that the heavy rain of the 
last few days meant fresh snow on the passes I had to 
cross. Bandipur village, which forms as it were the port for 
the route connecting Kashmir with Gilgit and the regions 
beyond, was soon reached. It appeared as I had seen it 
in 1889 on my march to Skardo, pre-eminently a place 


VIEW IN BURZIL VALLEY. 


differtum nautis cauponibus atque malignis. 
1 


12 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [oHAP. 11. 


But as regards transport arrangements it was easy to realise 
-a marked change. Since an Imperial garrison was placed in 
Gilgit and the new “ Gilgit Transport Road”’ was constructed, 
the Indian Commissariat Department has taken charge of the 
means of transport on this route. Timely arrangements had 
been made on my behalf by Captaim Bretherton, and a 
reference to the warrant officer on the spot brought the 
quick assurance that ponies and coolies would be available , 
whenever wanted. The time when the intending traveller 
on this route had to press his transport as best he could has 
passed, let us hope, for ever. If restrictions have to be 
placed on the number of private visitors in the interest of the 
commissariat work on which the supplies of the Gilgit garrison 
depend, the disadvantage is amply compensated by the benefit 
to the Valley at large. There was a time, still vividly remem- 
bered, when the demand for coolies to carry military baggage 
or supplies moving to Gilgit would spread terror through 
Kashmir villages. Of the thousands of cultivators used 
annually for this corvée, a large proportion never saw their 
country again ; for, ill-fed and still worse clad, the ‘ Begaris ’ 
succumbed only too readily to the inclemency of climatic 
conditions or the epidemics favoured by them. All this has 
changed since Imperial advice and control has made itself felt 
in Kashmir, and the construction of the new Gilgit road, fit 
throughout for laden animals, including camels, during three 
summer months, has rendered the use of human labour 
altogether superfluous. 

On the morning of the 31st of May sixteen ponies were 
ready to receive the loads which were made up by our tents, 
stores, instruments, &c. Formidable as this number appeared 
to me, accustomed as I was to move lightly on my wanderings 
in and about Kashmir, I had the satisfaction to know that my 
personal baggage formed the smallest part of these impedi- 
menta. When the string of animals had filed off together 
with the Sub-Surveyor and servants, there were yet imposing 


CHAP. II] OVER THE TRAGBAL PASS 13 


indents to sign and bills to pay which the obliging Com- 
missariat Conductor kept ready for me under a group of fine 
Chinars by the roadside where on sunny days he transacts the 
business of his office. No transport can move up the road 
without his permission, and though the procedure he superin- 
tends is modern in its ways, yet it seemed to me as if this 
modest British official had simply taken the place of those 
“Masters of the Gates’? who used in ancient Kashmir to 
guard all routes leading into the valley. 

The road, after leaving the straggling line of wooden huts 
which form the Bazar of Bandipur, leads for about four 
miles up the open valley of the Madhumati stream. In the 
irrigated fields the fresh green of the young rice-shoots was 
just appearing, while the hamlets on either side were half 
hidden under the rich foliage of their Chinars and walnut- 
trees. It was the typical spring scenery of Kashmir to 
which I here bade farewell. Near the village of Matargom 
the road turns to the north to ascend in long zigzags the 
range which forms the watershed between Kashmir and the 
valley of the Kishanganga. From the spur up which the 

,road winds I had a splendid view of the Volur Lake and 
the snow-covered mountains to the east which encircle the 
hoary Haramukh Peaks. At a height of about 9,000 feet 
a fine forest of pines covers the spur and encloses a narrow 
glade known as Tragbal. Here the snow had just disappeared, 
and I found the damp ground strewn with the first carpet of 
Alpine flowers. 

A rude wooden rest-house begrimed with smoke and mould 
gave shelter for the night, doubly welcome, as a storm broke 
soon after it got dark. The storm brought fresh snow, and 
as this was sure to make the crossing of the pass above more 
difficult I started before daybreak on the Ist of June. A steep 
ascent of some two thousand feet leads to the open ridge 
which the road follows for several miles. Exposed as this ridge 
is to all the winds, I was not surprised to find it stili covered 


14 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II. 


with deep snowdrifts, below which all trace of the road dis- 
appeared. Heavy clouds hung around, and keeping off the 
rays of the sun let the snow remain fairly hard. Soon, how- 
ever, it began to snow, and the icy wind which swept the 
ridge made me and my men. push eagerly forward to the 
shelter offered by a Dak runners’ hut. The storm cleared 
before long, but it sufficed to show how well deserved is the 
bad repute which the Tragbal (11,900 feet above the sea) 
enjoys among Kashmirian passes. 

For the descent from the pass I was induced by the 
‘Markobans’ owning the ponies to utilise the winter route 
which leads steeply down into a narrow snow-filled nullah. 
Though the ponies slid a good deal in the soft snow of the 
slope, we did not encounter much difficulty until we got to the 
bottom of the gorge. Here the snow bridges over the stream 
which flows from this valley towards the Kishanganga had 
begun to give way, and the high banks of snow on either side 
were in many places uncomfortably narrow. At last our 
progress was stopped at a point where the stream had washed 
away the whole of the snow vault. To take the laden 
animals along the slatey and precipitous side of the gorge, 
which was free from snow, proved impracticable. To return 
to the top of the gorge, and thence follow the proper road 
which descends in long zigzags along a side spur, would have 
cost hours. So the council of my ‘ Markobans,’ hardy hill- 
men, half Kashmiri, half Dard, decided to try the narrow 
ledge of snow which remained standing on the right bank of 
the stream. The first animal, though held and supported by 
three men, slipped and rolled into the stream, and with it 
Sadak Akhun, who vainly attempted to stem its fall. Fortu- 
nately neither man nor pony got hurt, and as the load was 
also picked out of the water the attempt was resumed with 
additional care. Making a kind of path with stones placed 
at the worst points, we managed to get the animals across 
one by one. But it was not without considerable anxiety for 


CHAP. II.] AMONG THE DARDS 15 


my boxes, with survey instruments and similar contents, that 
I watched the operation. Heavy rain was falling at the time, 
and when at last we had all the ponies once more on a safe 
snow-bridge, men and animals were alike soaked. By one 
o'clock I reached the Gorai rest-house, down to which the- 
valley was covered with snow, having taken nearly seven 
hours to cover the eleven miles of the march. 

The little rest-house, looking doubly bleak in the drizzling 
rain, held already three ‘ Sahibs,’ officers who were returning 
from their shooting nullahs to Kashmir and the plains. 
Refreshed by their hospitality, I decided to push on to the 
next stage, Gurez, where better shelter and supplies were 
available. The offer of some Bakhshish, and the hope of a 
dry and comparatively warm corner for the night, overcame 
the remonstrances of the ‘ Markobans,’ and the little 
caravan moved on. Some four miles lower down I reached 
the main valley of the Kishanganga, and in it the first Dard 
village. Another ten miles’ march up the valley brought me 
to Gurez, a collection of villages at a point where the valley 
widens to a little plain, about a mile broad. 

Sombre and forbidding the valley looked between its high 
pine-covered mountains and under a dark, rainy sky. The 
effect was heightened by the miserable appearance of the 
rude log-built dwellings scattered here and there along the 
slopes, and by the dark-coloured sand in the bed of the river. 
The latter bears, not without good reason, the name of the 
“Black Ganga” (in Sanskrit, Krishnaganga). The back- 
ward state of the vegetation showed that spring had only just 
commenced in the valley, which here has an elevation of 
about 8,000 feet above the sea. With its short summer and 
scanty sunshine it can raise but poor crops of barley and 
“Trumba,’ and the population is accordingly thin. 

The mountain range towards Kashmir marks also a well- 
defined ethnographic boundary. The Dard race, which 
inhabits the valleys north of it as far as the Hindukush, 


16 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [oHAP., II. 


is separated rom the Kashmiri population by language as 
well as by physical characteristics. The relation between 
the language of the Dards and the other Indo-Aryan ver- 
naculars of North-Western India is by no means clearly estab- 
lished. But whatever the linguistic and ethnic affinities of 
the Dard race may be, it is certain that it has held these 
valleys since the earliest time to which our historical know- 
ledge can reach back. Herodotus had heard of them in the 
same region they now inhabit; for he mentions the gold- 
washing operations still carried on by them within modest 
limits on the Indus and the Kishanganga. There is little in 
the Dard to enlist the sympathies of the casual observer. 
He lacks the intelligence, humour, and fine physique of the 
Kashmiri, and though undoubtedly far braver than the latter, 
has none of the independent spirit and martial bearing which 
draws us towards the Pathan, despite all his failings. But 1 
can never see a Dard without thinking of the thousands of 
years of struggle these tribes have carried on with the harsh 
climate and the barren soil of their mountains. They, like 
the Afridis, who also are mentioned by the Father of History, 
have seen all the great conquests which swept over the 
North-West of India, and have survived them, unmoved as 
their mountains. 

Gurez was once the chief place of a little Dard kingdom 
which often harassed the rulers of old Kashmir. But I 
confess, when I approached it at the close of my fatiguing 
double march, this antiquarian fact interested me less than 
the comfortable shelter which I found for my men and myself 
in Mr. Mitchell’s new bungalow. 

The following day. was a halt, for my people needed rest 
and my baggage drying. There were besides fresh arrange- 
ments to be made for the transport ahead. In Srinagar I had 
been told officially that the Burzil Pass, which had to be 
crossed between Gurez and Astor, would, owing to the deep 
snow, be open only for coolie transport. However, from the 


CHAP. II. ] IN THE BURZIL VALLEY 17 


parties of Dards whom I met on the road, and who had brought 
their unladen ponies safely across from Astor, I gathered 
better news. As the use of coolies meant a complete re- 
arrangement of the loads, and still more trouble for the scanty 
population of the valley, which had already been. obliged to 
furnish a hundred carriers for a survey party ahead of me, 
I decided to take ponies. These were easily forthcoming, and 
on the morning of the 8rd of June I set out from Gurez much 
as [had reached it, except that the more delicate instruments, 
like theodolite and photographic cameras, were entrusted to 
the safer backs of coolies. 

The weather had cleared at last, and the march from Gurez 
up the side valley of the stream which comes from the Burzil 
was most enjoyable. To the south there was the view of the 
fine snow-covered mountains which divide the Kishanganga 
Valley from Kashmir, while along the route leading north- 
wards the slopes of the valley refreshed the eye with their 
rich green of Alpine meadows and pine forests. Of avalanches 
which had swept down on the road there were many to cross. 
But the task of taking the ponies over them was trifling after 
the Tragbal experiences. I halted for the night at Pushwari, 
and next morning continued the march in the same direction 
and amidst similar scenery up to Minimarg. 

There, at an altitude of nearly 10,000 feet above the 
sea, the valley widens to a little plain with plenty of grazing 
and a little collection of huts used by Gujar cattleherds for 
their summer quarters. The snow had melted here about ten 
days before, and the meadow land was already covered with 
young shoots of grass and a variety of hardy Alpine flowers, 
mostly old acquaintances from my beloved Kashmir ‘ Marg.’ 
But a glance at the telegraph office placed here to keep watch 
over the line across the pass was sufficient to show the rigour 
of the winter season. Raised high above the ground, and 
enclosed with heavy palisaded verandahs and sheds, the build- 


ing looked more like a small fort than an office. These 
3 


18 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II. 


precautions are, indeed, necessary in order to make the place 
inhabitable during the long winters with their heavy snowfall. 

At Minimarg the route to the Burzil strikes off to the north- 
west, and ascending the valley some five miles higher L 
reached the rest-house at the foot of the pass. The snow 
began to cover the ground soon after Minimarg was left 
behind, and at the foot of the pass it was a true winter scenery 
which met the eye. The sky was of a dazzling blue, and so 
clear that I felt quite reassured as to the result of taking my 
laden ponies across the pass. 

The only condition to be observed was an early ascent before 
the snow should become soft. I therefore got up at one 
o’clock, and an hour later my caravan was plodding up the 
snow-filled ravine which forms the winter route to the pass. 
Of the road no trace could be seen. After two hours’ steady 
ascent we arrived at the point where the Burzil defile is met 
from the north-east by another pass leading down from the 
high plateau of the Deosai. <A telegraph shelter-hut raised 
on a wooden scaffolding some thirty feet high serves as a 
suiding-post to the parties of Dak runners who are obliged to 
carry the Gilgit mail during the winter. The structure was 
even now some 10 feet deepin the snow. Fortunately the tem- 
perature was so low that the hard snow offered comparatively 
good going to the animals. By the time that the first rays of the 
sun swept across the higher ranges to the east, we had gained 
safely the summit of the pass, 13,500 feet above the sea. 
The six miles from the rest-house had taken over three hours. 
There was no distant view from the pass, which lies between 
winding spurs, but the glittering snowfields all around, covered 
with a spotless crust of fresh ice, were a sight not to be for- 
gotten. The temperature was only 35° F. when I took a 
hurried breakfast under the shelter of the Dak hut. 

The descent on the north side was long and tiring. The 
snow lay for some eight miles from the top of the pass, and 
as the morning advanced the going necessarily became heavier. 


CHAP. I. ] CROSSING OF BURZIL PASS Lo 


‘The only living beings that inhabit this Arctic waste are big 
marmots. Sitting on the top of their burrows as if to warm 
themselves in the sun, they did their best to attract attention 
by shrill whistling, only to disappear with lightning speed at 
the approach of danger. It took some time before my little 
fox-terrier realised this, and refrained from spending his 
breath in vain attempts to rush the provoking animals. 
‘Dash,’ or ‘ Yolchi Beg’ (‘Sir Traveller’’), as he had been 
renamed since I took to Turki with Mirza, proved true to his 
name. He marched as cheerily over the miles of snow as on 
earlier wanderings through the dusty diy Punjab plains or in 
the dripping jungle of Sikkim. My Turki servants soon 
grew fond of ‘ Yolchi Beg,’ and, being untrammelled by the 
caste conventions of India, never hesitated to show their 
affection for my faithful companion. 

It was one o’clock when I arrived at Chillum Chauki, the 
first rest-house on the Astor side of the pass, having left the 
snow behind about two miles before. All the ponies came in 
safely except one, the absence of which was soon noticed 
when I was looking out for breakfast. The pony carrying the 
kitchen ‘ Kiltas’ had lagged behind, and I became painfully 
aware that something had gone wrong when hour after hour 
passed in vain expectation. My Surveyor, who had marched 
in the rear, brought news of the animal having broken down 
in the softening snow, and though I at once despatched coolies 
to its assistance it was not till after six in the evening that 
Mirza turned up with his charge. As if to console me for the 
delay in bodily comforts I got in the evening the cheerful 
news of the occupation of Pretoria from Mr. M., the road 
engineer, who arrived at the rest-house from a shooting 
excursion. News travels fast along the telegraph line, and 
although there is, apart from the Political Agent at Gilgit, no 
subscriber to Reuter’s messages this side of the Burzil, tele- 
graph masters in Astor and their friends were evidently well 
informed of what was happening far away in South Africa. 


20 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II, 


The set of ponies which I had brought from Gurez, and 
which were the first laden animals that crossed the Burzil 
this year, were relieved at Chillum Chauki by fresh ones 
sent up for me from Astor. My march on the 6th of June, 
down the valley leading to Astor, was recreation after the 
previous one. Notwithstanding the brilliant colour imparted 
to the scenery by a blue sky, glittering bands of snow in the 
ravines, and the green tossing stream at the bottom of the 
valley, it was easy to realise that the crossing of the water- 
shed between the drainage areas of the Jhelam and Indus 
meant the entry into a sterner region. The hillsides were 
no longer clothed with verdure as in Kashmir and the Kishan- 
ganga Valley. On the slopes of bare decomposed rock cedars 
and a kind of juniper showed themselves only in scanty 
patches. Cultivation lower down also bore evidence of the 
unfavourable conditions of soil and climate. All the more 
cheerful it was to behold, by the side of the little terraced 
fields of more than one hamlet, an oblong sward carefully 
marked off with stones—the polo ground of the villagers. 
Polo is the national game of all Dard tribes; and that even 
the inhabitants of these poor mountain hamlets make a 
sacrifice of valuable soil for its sake attests their devotion 
to this manly pastime. 

At Gadhoi, where a march of about seventeen miles 
brought me, it was already distinctly warmer than I had felt 
it since leaving Kashmir, though the aneroid still indicated an 
elevation of about 9,000 feet. On the 7th of June I con- 
tinued my journey to Astor, the chief place of the hill 
district, to which from early times it has given its name. 
Some miles below Gadhoi there showed themselves above the 
bare rocky mountains along the valley the icy crests of the 
great mass of peaks culminating in Nanga Parbat. That 
giant of mountains (26,600 feet above the sea), the ice-clad 
pyramid of which I had so often admired from Kashmir 
Margs, and even from above Murree itself, remained hidden 


CHAP, II. ] THE ASTOR CAPITAL 21 


behind lower ranges, though only about ten miles away, as 
the crow flies. Yet even its bodyguard of minor peaks, 
ranging between 18,000 and 28,000 feet, was a sufficiently 
inspiriting sight. 

I felt the need of looking up to their glacier walls ; for down 
on the road it got warmer and warmer. From Gurikot 
onwards where the two branches of the Astor River unite, the 
road, dusty and hot, winds up the steep scarp on the left side 
of the valley until at last the group of villages known as 
Astor came in sight spread out over a mighty alluvial fan. 
The view that opened here was striking in its ruggedness. 
For a wall of rocky ridges seems to close the valley to the 
north, while the deep ravines cut by the mountain torrents 
into the alluvial plateaus on either side give them a look of 
fantastic diversity. 

T reached at 3 p.m. the bungalow of Astor, situated on a 
dominating point of the plateau, and felt heartily glad of its 
shade and coolness. Below me lay the Fort of the Sikhs, now 
used for the accommodation of a battery of Kashmir Imperial 
Service troops, while on the south there stretched the orchards 
and fields of the Astor ‘ capital.” The Rajas of Astor have 
become ‘‘ mediatised’’ since the advent of the Sikhs, and 
their power, such as it was, is now wielded by a modest 
Tahsildar of the Kashmir administration. Generosity was 
not a fault of Sikh rule in these mountain regions, and the 
deposed family of hill chiefs have little left to support the 
pride of their ancient lineage. 

Though Astor les about 7,700 feet above the sea, the air 
would have been decidedly oppressive but for a storm which in 
the evening swept over the valley. It left plenty of clouds 
behind to screen the sun on the next morning (June 8th) when 
IT resumed the march down towards the Indus. The valley 
became bleaker and bleaker as the route descended, and the 
streaks of red, yellow, and grey displayed by the rocky hillsides 
offered poor compensation for the absence of vegetation. Of 


22 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II. 


flowering shrubs only a kind of wild rose seems to thrive on 
the barren soil, and being just in full bloom caught the eye 
by its purple patches. A few green fields perched on the top 
of small alluvial fans were all the cultivation visible on the fif- 
teen miles’ march to Dashkin village, the first stage from Astor. 

As I had heard of the arrival at the next stage, Duyan, of 
Captain J. Manners Smith, whom I was anxious to meet, I 
decided to push on. The slow rate of progress made by the 
baggage animals confirmed the objections which my pony-men 
had raised. But otherwise this extra march of twelve miles 
proved a pleasant surprise. The road, rising gradually to 
about 5,000 feet above the tossing river, took me through a 
charming forest of pines, which in the shadows of the setting 
sun looked its best. This forest evidently owes its growth to 
its sheltered position on the north-east flank of a great ridge, 
which on its top was still covered with snow. It was a 

pleasure to behold once more green moss and ferns along the 
little streams which rush down through the forest. But 
when this was left behind at the turning of a cross-spur there 
spread a grander view before me. 

Through the gap between the mountains enclosing the Astor 
Valley there appeared the broad stream of the Indus and beyond 
it range after range towards the north. Thin clouds hung over 
the more distant ranges, yet I thought I could recognise rising 
above the fleecy mist the icy mass of Mount Rakiposhi. Father 
Indus was greeted by me like an old friend. I had seen the 
mighty river at more than one notable point of its course, where 
it breaks through the rocky gorges of Baltistan, where it bursts 
forth into the Yusufzai plain, and in its swift rush through the 
defiles below Attock. But nowhere had it impressed me more 
than when I now suddenly caught sight of it amidst these 
towering mountain walls. The shadows of evening fell 
quickly in its deep-cut valley and the glittering vision of the 
river had vanished when, somewhat tired, I reached the end of 
my double march. 


CHAP. I1.] HALT AT DUYAN 23 


My stay at Duyan was prolonged in the pleasantest manner. 
Early on the morning of June 9 Captain J. Manners Smith, 
VC., o.1.u., the Political Agent of Gilgit and the adjacent 
hill tracts, on his return from a shooting excursion, came to 
see me and kindly invited me to spend the day in his camp. 
I was most glad to accept the hospitality of the distinguished 
officer, then acting as ‘‘ Warden of the Marches’’ for the 
mountain region I was about to traverse; and after despatching 
my party ahead, soon found myself riding on one of his hill 
ponies up to the mountain-side occupied by his tents. It was 
a charming spot on a little shoulder of the fir-covered slope, 
some 1,500 feet above the road, where the ground was car- 
peted with wild violets, forget-me-nots, and other mountain 
flowers, and where a bright little stream added to the attrac- 
tions of the scene. Picturesque, indeed, it was with the 
well-fitted hill tents of the Political Agent and the motley 
crowd of his followers hailing from all parts of Gilgit, Chilas, 
and Hunza. 

In the amiable society of my host and Mrs. Manners Smith 
I passed a day which I shall long remember for its varied 
enjoyments. Anglo-Indian ladies know how to carry true 
refinement into camp life even at the most distant points 
of the Empire, and here Nature had surrounded the tasteful 
comforts of a well-arranged camp with special glamour. The 
hours I spent at this delightful spot fled only too fast. 
Captain Manners Smith, who has been connected with the 
political administration of this region for the last twelve 
years, and whose Victoria Cross was earned at one of the 
most striking incidents of its modern history, the storming 
of the Hunza fastness beyond Nilth, knows these mountains 
and their races better probably than any European. 

What added to the interest of his varied communications 
about the old customs and traditions of the people was the illus- 
tration which his remarks received from the hillmen attending 
his camp. The petty headmen from the valleys towards 


24 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. II. 


Chilas and from Punyal furnished me with more than one 
curious fact bearing on the earlier social and religious con- 
dition of the tract. Muhammadanism is a comparatively 
recent growth here, and the traditions as to former worship 
and rites have survived in many a valley. One grey-bearded 
village headman from Gor in particular seemed full of old- 
world lore. He had investigated the relics of an old burial- 
place near his home, where the burnt bodies of his ancestors 
in pre-Muhammadan times used to be deposited, and was not 
shy about relating the drastic punishment which as a boy he 
had received from his mother when disturbing the spot. In 
these mountains, as elsewhere throughout the world, it is the 
women-folk who act as the best guardians of all old lore and 
tradition. 

The close contact with the Far West into which modern 
political conditions have brought these once secluded valleys 
was illustrated by the fact that I could read at Captain 
Manners Smith’s table the latest Reuter telegrams just as if 
it had been in the Club at Lahore. But the presence in camp 
of my host’s pretty little children offered an even more con- 
vincing indication how far European influence has penetrated 
across the mountains. Bright and rosy-cheeked, they were 
worthy representatives of the British Baby which in the 
borderlands of India has always appeared to me as the true 
pioneer of civilization. I have come across it in many a 
strange place, and its manifest happiness amongst surround- 
ings which often seemed incongruous with the idea of a 
nursery has ever foreed me to admiration. The British 
Baby has never been slow to follow the advance of British 
arms in India. Occasionally it has come early enough to see 
some fighting: witness Fort Lockhart and the Malakand. 
But on the whole its appearance on the scene marks the 
establishment of the pax britannica, and for this mission of 
peace and security it well deserves that thriving condition 
which it usually enjoys in the mountains around Kashmir. 


CHAP. I1.] DOWN TO THE INDUS 25 


For afternoon tea my hosts took me to a pretty ‘Marg’ 
on the top of the ridge above their camp. From this height 
the Indus Valley, in its barrenness of rock and sand, could be 
seen descending far away towards Chilas and Darel. The 
day will come when this natural route to the Indian plains 
will be open again as it was in old times. Then the last bit 
of terra incognita along the Indus, which now extends from 
Chilas down to Amb, will be accessible, while the diffi- 
culties inseparable from a line of transport crossing the great 
barriers of the Kashmir ranges will no longer have to be 
faced. 

On the morning of the 10th of June I took leave of my kind 
hosts and hurried down towards Bunji to catch up my camp. 
As I descended the defile of the Astor River, where the road 
leads along precipitous cliffs and past shingly ravines, the 
heat rose in a marked degree. I could well realise what the 
terrors of this part of the route, known as Hatu Pir, abso- 
lutely waterless and exposed to the full force of the sun, must 
have been for the Kashmiri coolies of old days. On the 
eleven miles which brought me down to the level of the 
‘Indus close to the point where the Astor River joins it, I 
did not meet with a single traveller. Equally desolate was 
the ride from Ramghat, where the road crosses the Astor 
River, to Bunji, some eight miles higher up on the Indus. 
The broad rocky plain which stretches from the bank of the 
ereat river to the foot of the mountains showed scarcely a 
trace of vegetation. The radiation of the sun’s rays was 
intense, and I was glad to reach by one p.m. the shelter of 
the Bunji Bungalow. The neighbouring fort is still held by 
some detachments of Kashmir troops, though the ferry over 
the Indus which it once guarded has become disused since the 
construction of the new road. During the hot hours I spent 
at Bunji there was little to tempt me outside. A hazy 
atmosphere hung over the valley and deprived me of the 
hoped-for view of Nangaparbat, which, rising fully 22,000 


26 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. Il. 


feet above the level of the Indus, dominates the whole 
scenery in clear weather. A strong wind blowing down 
the valley carried the fine sand of the river-bed even into 
the closed rooms. Bunji altogether seemed by no means a 
desirable place to spend’ much time in, and strongly reminded 
me of the hot days I had once passed in the low hills of 
Jammu territory. 

Fodder is practically not to be got at Bunji, and this 
accounts for the difficulty I found in procuring a pony that 
was to take me in the evening to the next stage where my 
baggage had marched ahead. At last the local Tahsildar had 
to lend me his mount, but it was already evening before I 
could set out. <A lonely ride across a sandy plain brought me 
to the imposing suspension bridge which spans the Indus, just 
as it was getting dark. In the dim light of the moon which 
was then emerging for a time from the clouds the deep, rock- 
bound gorge of the river looked quite fantastic. And so did 
the rugged mountains further east through which the Gilgit 
River comes down to meet the Indus. To ride along the face 
of the rocky spur which rises in the angle of the two rivers 
was slow work in the scanty light of a fitful moon, and by the 
time I had turned fully into the Gilgit Valley and reached 
safer ground, rain came on and brought complete darkness. 
Mile after mile passed without my coming upon the longed-for 
rest-house where I could rejoin my camp. At last it became 
clear that I must have passed it by, and I had. only the choice 
of continuing my ride straight into Gilgit or returning to 
search for the missed bungalow. Dark as it was I preferred 
the latter course, and ultimately discovered a side path which 
brought me to the expected shelter fully half a mile away from 
the main road. It was close on midnight when I sat down to 
the dinner which my servants had duly kept ready for me, 
though it had never struck them that I might require a light 
to show me the way to it. 

Pari, where I spent what remained of the night, proved in 


CHAP. II. ] AT THE GILGIT AGENCY 27 


the morning a desolate spot by the sandy bank of the river, 
enclosed by an amphitheatre of bare reddish-brown mountains. 
The scenery remained the same for the next nine miles or so 
until after rounding one of the countless spurs along which the 
road winds the open part of the great Gilgit Valley came 
into view. Minaur is the first village where cultivated ground 
is again reached, and thereafter every alluvial fan on the left 
bank was green with carefully terraced and irrigated fields. A 


few miles further on the valley of the Hunza River opens 


from the north, and beyond it stretches the collection ot 
hamlets to which the name Gilgit properly applies. It was a 
cheerful sight to view this expanse of fertile fields and orchards 
from the height of an old moraine issuing from a side valley. 
While riding through it Iwas met by a note from Captain 
H. Burden, t.m.s., the Agency Surgeon, offering me that 
hospitable reception for which Captain Manners Smith's 
kindness had prepared me. 

I soon was installed in a comfortable set of rooms, and 
realised that for my stay at Gilgit I was to be the guest of the 
officers remaining at the headquarters of the Agency. Small 
as their number was I found among them most attractive and 
congenial company. Each of them, whether in charge of the 
Kashmir Imperial Service troops supplying the local garrisons, 
or of the Commissariat, the Public Works, or the hospitals of 
Gilgit, showed plainly that he knew and liked.these hills. For 
each the semi-independence secured by the arrangements of 
an out-lying frontier tract under “ political ’? management had 
been a source of increased activity and consequent experience 
in his own sphere. That the political interests which 
necessitated the garrisoning of Gilgit with Imperial officers 


and troops have benefited this region in more ways than one 


was apparent from a stroll through the little ‘‘ station.” I 
found there a well-built hospital, neat offices for the various 
departments of the administration, a clean and airy bazar, 
and even substantial buildings for a school and a zenana 


28 TO ASTOR AND GILGIT [CHAP. Il. 


hospital. Small but comfortable bungalows have been built 
for the European officers on the terraced slopes overlooking 
the valley, and in their midst there has quite recently risen 
even a substantial club with an excellent though necessarily 
select library. It is only some eleven years since the new era 
set in for Gilgit, and yet it is already difficult to trace the 
conditions which preceded it. The fort, built of rubble with a 
wooden framework, after the usual Sikh fashion, alone reminds 
one of the days when Gilgit was the prey of an ill-paid and 
badly disciplined soldiery, when years of unabated exactions 
had laid great parts of the cultivable land waste and driven 
the now peaceful Dards into violent rebellions. 

I had originally intended to stop only one day at Gilgit in 
order. to give my men a much-needed rest and to effect some 
repairs in the equipment. But difficulty arose about getting 
fresh transport for the march to Hunza, and my stay was of 
necessity extended to three days. Ample work and the 
amiable attention of my hosts scarcely allowed me to notice the 
delay. Though all Government transport was occupied in 
out-lying camps, and the local ponies were grazing far away 
in distant nullahs, Captain E. A. R. Howell, the energetic 
Commissariat Officer, provided by the third day a train of 
excellent animals to which I could safely trust my baggage up 
to Hunza. Little defects in my outfit which the experience 
of the previous marches had brought to light were easily made 
good in the interval, since every member of the ‘ station ”’ 
offered kind help. While the Commissariat Stores supplied 
what was needed in the way of followers’ warm clothing, 
foodstuffs, &c., Mrs. W., the only lady left in the ‘‘ station,” 
kindly offered threads of her own fair hair for use in the 
photo-theodolite. How often had I occasion to feel grateful 
thereafter for this much-needed reserve store when handling 
that delicate instrument with half-benumbed fingers on wind- 
swept mountain-tops ! 


Il 


CHAPTER 
THROUGH HUNZA 


On the afternoon of the 
15th of June I left Gilgit full 
of the pleasant impressions 
MIR’S CASTLE AT BALTIT. from my cordial reception 

at this last Anglo-Indian 

outpost. The first march of eighteen miles was to Nomal, 
a green oasis in the otherwise barren valley of the river 
which comes from Hunza. The preceding days in Gilgit 
chad been abnormally cloudy and cool, and this weather made 
marching pleasant enough. Since the little war of 1891, 
which had asserted British authority in Hunza, the road up 


the valley has been greatly improved. Nevertheless, it is but 
29 


30 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. IIL 


a narrow bridle path, and as it winds along precipitous spurs 
many hundred feet above the stream, it required such a steady 
hill pony as that kindly lent to me by Major E. J. Medley, 
of the 17th Bengal Lancers, then Commanding the Force in 
Gilgit, to ride with any feeling of comfort. 

From Nomal and upwards the river has cut its way through 
a succession of deep gorges, lined often with almost perpen- 
dicular cliffs. The path is carried in long zigzags over the 
projecting cross-ridges, and more than once traverses their face 
by means of galleries built out from the rock. At Chalt, the 
end point of my second day’s march, I reached the limit of 
Gilgit territory. Here the valley widens considerably and 
takes a sharp turn eastwards. As a reminiscence of an 
earlier state of things the place is garrisoned with a company 
of Kashmir Imperial Service troops. Their commandant, an 
aged Subahdar from the Garhwal district, came to call on me 
soon after I had arrived at the comfortable bungalow of the 
Military Works Department. In the course of our long con- 
versation he gave me graphic accounts of what Gilgit meant 
to the Kashmir troops twenty and thirty years ago; of the 
hardships which the want of commissariat arrangements 
caused both to the soldiers and the inhabitants. From the 
description of these sufferings it was pleasant to turn to other 
aspects of soldiering in the old Dogra service, ¢.g., the quaint 
Sanskrit words of command concocted under Maharaja Ranbir 
Singh, and still in use not so many years ago. 

On the 17th I intended to make a double march, pushing on 
straight to the centre of the Hunza valley, where baggage 
animals were to be left behind and coolies taken for the rest 
of the journey to the Taghdumbash Pamir. After leaving 
Chalt the road crosses to the left bank of the river by a fine 
suspension bridge, hung like the rest of the more important 
bridges on the route from Kashmir, from ropes made of 
telegraph-wire. This mode of construction, first tried in these 
parts by Colonel Aylmer, of the Royal Engineers, has proved 


CHAP. III. ] MOUNT RAKIPOSHI 31 


everywhere a signal success ; its advantages are easily appreci- 
ated in a country where other suitable materials could scarcely 
be carried to the spot. . 

It was after rounding a long massive spur which causes a 
great bend in the river-bed that I first beheld the ice-clad 
peaks of Mount Rakiposhi in their glory. The weather had 
been too cloudy during the preceding days to see much of this 
giant of mountains while I was marching in the valleys which 
flank it to the south and west. Now that I had got to its 
north side a day of spotless clearness set in, and the dazzling 
mass of snow and ice stood up sharp against the blue sky. 
Rakiposhi, with its towering height of over 25,500 feet, 
commands completely the scenery in the Upper Hunza Valley. 
Though several peaks run it close in point of elevation, none 
can equal it in boldness of shape and noble isolation. All day 
long I revelled in this grand sight, hidden only for short 
distances by the spurs which Rakiposhi sends down into the 
valley. Between them lie deep-cut side valleys through which 
the streams fed from the glaciers of Rakiposhi make their 
way to the main stream. The ample moisture supplied by the 
eternal snows of the higher slopes has not only brought 
verdure to the cultivated terraces in the valley. High above 
the walls of bare rock which bound the latter, patches of pine 
forest and green slopes of grazing land can be seen stretching 
up to the edge of the snow line. Glaciers, of spotless white 
on their higher parts, but grey with detritus below, furrow the 
flanks of the mountain mass and push their tongues almost 
down to the level of the main valley which here rises from six 
to seven thousand feet above the sea. 

At Nilth, some eight miles above Chalt, the first Nagir 
village is reached. It was the scene of the notable fight 
which decided in 1891 the fate of Hunza and Nagir. The 
two little hill states which divide between them the right and 
left sides of the valley jointly known as Kanjut, had stoutly 
maintained their independence against all Dogra attempts at 


32 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


conquest. No wonder that people to whom their own 
mountains offer so scanty room and sustenance proved 
troublesome neighbours. Slave raiding into the lower valleys 
had for a long time been a regular source of revenue for the 
chiefs or Mirs of Hunza. The plundering expeditions of the 
sturdy Kanjutis were feared by caravans far away on the 
Pamirs and on the trade routes towards the Karakorum. 
Across the great glaciers which stretch along the flanks of the | 
Muztagh range parties of Kanjuti freebooters used to break 
into the valleys of Baltistan. I well remember the rude 
towers near the mouth of the great Biafo glacier which I saw 
on my visit to the Braldo Valley eleven years before. They 
plainly showed that even in that forbidding region raids from 
Hunza had to be guarded against. 

All this has changed with the brilliant little campaign 
which began and ended at Nilth. The graphic account of 
Mr. Knight, who accompanied the small force from Gilgit as 
correspondent of the Times, has made all the incidents well 
known. From the shady little Bagh in front of Nilth where I 
halted for breakfast, I could conveniently survey the fortified 
village which Colonel Durand’s force stormed, and the pre- 
cipitous gorge behind, which stopped his further progress for 
nearly three weeks. The sangars which had crowned the 
cliffs on the opposite side and from which the men of Nagir 
had offered so stout a resistance, were already in ruins. But 
of their defenders, several joined me in a friendly chat, and 
pointed out all the important positions. 

Nothing speaks more for the policy and tact of the victors 
than the good feeling with which the people of the valley 
remember the contest. The men of the local ‘‘ Levies’ who 
showed me the precipitous cliffs of conglomerate over 
1,000 feet high, seen on the left of the accompanying photo- 
eraph, which Captain (then Lieutenant) Manners Smith 
sealed with his handful of Dogras and Gurkhas, seemed 
almost as proud of the daring exploit that had won that 


CHAP. III. | NILTH GORGE 33 


gallant officer his Victoria Cross, as if it had been done by 
one of themselves. The explanation lies probably in the fact 
that all interference with the habits of the people and their 
traditional rulers has been scrupulously avoided. The small 


garrison of Kashmir Imperial Service Troops which was 
quartered in the centre of the valley for a few years has been 


CLIFFS OF NILTH GORGE, NAGIR. 


removed. The British Political Officer who was left to advise 
the chiefs of Hunza and Nagir, has now also been withdrawn, 
and of the visible effects of the conquest there now remains 
nothing in the valley but a well-made road and absolute 
security for the traveller. The zeal and bravery which the 
Kanjuti levies displayed when called to aid in the Chitral 
campaign are the best proof of the loyal spirit with which the 
4 


34 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


changed situation has been accepted. Yet this population of 
brave mountaineers, small as it is, has to struggle harder 
than ever to maintain itself amidst these gorges bound by 
rock and ice, now that the days of raiding are gone. 

From Nilth onwards the road leads over a succession of 
highly cultivated plateaus, separated by deep-cut glacier 
ravines. Everywhere there were little clumps of fruit trees, 
of which the mulberries were just ripening. The villages _ 
which I passed were distinctly picturesque, being all enclosed 
with walls of rough stone and square loopholed towers. Their 
position, which is usually on the very edge of the plateau, 
falling off in precipitous banks towards the river, also shows 
that safety was a consideration. Old are these sites in all 
probability, but the only remains of antiquity that I could see 
or hear of above ground are those of a small Buddhist Stupa 
or relic tower passed on the road close to the hamlet of Thol. 
Built of solid masonry, it rises on a base of ten feet square to 
a height of nearly twenty feet, and is remarkably well pre- 
served. The only damage done is at the corner, where the 
masonry of the base has been knocked off to save the detour 
of a few feet to the road which passes by the side of the 
monument. It is evident that even at so remote a spot the 
‘“Public Works’ of modern India involve the same danger to 
ancient monuments which they have unfortunately proved 
throughout the peninsula. 

While the Nagir side of the valley shows a cheerful suc- 
cession of villages, the opposite side, which belongs to Hunza, 
is here for the most part a rocky waste. The difference is 
easily accounted for by the increased supply of water which 
Rakiposhi provides. Among the people of Nagir no marked 
difference from the Dard type is noticeable. Shina, the 
language of Gilgit, seems to be spoken in most of the lower - 
villages, though Burisheski, the language of Hunza, is also 
understood. The latter has no apparent connection with 
either the Indian or the Iranian family of languages, and 


CHAP. III.] LANGUAGE OF HUNZA 35 


seems an erratic block left here by some bygone wave of 
conquest. In its stock of words it shows no resemblance to 
the Turki dialects, but is closely allied to the Wurshki 
tongue spoken in the northern valleys of Yasin. How the 


STUPA OF THOL, NAGIR. 


small race which speaks the language of Hunza has come to 
occupy these valleys will perhaps never be cleared up 
by historical evidence. But its preservation between the 
Dards on the south and the Iranian and Turki tribes on the 


36 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


north is clearly due to the isolated position of the country. 
It was curious to me to watch the rapid inroads which Hindu- 
stani has made in this linguistic area during the last few 
years. The few hundred men placed in garrison along the 
valley and the passage of the convoys bringing their supplies 
have sufticed to spread a knowledge of Hindustani, or rather 
Punjabi, among the villagers, which considering the brief 
time is quite surprising. In view of this experience the 
rapid spread of Arabic and Persian words on the line of early 
Muhammadan conquest throughout Asia becomes more easily 
intelligible. 

The constant ups and downs of the road seemed to spread 
out considerably the distance of twenty-six miles between 
Chalt and Aliabad, the end of my march. Below the fort 
village of Tashsot the route crosses the rock-bound bed of the 
river by a bold bridge, and then continues along absolutely 
barren slopes of rock and shingle for several miles. In the 
light of the evening the steep walls of rock rising on either 
side fully five or six thousand feet above the river, with the 
icy crests of Rakiposhi in the background, formed a picture 
worthy of the imagination of Gustave Doré. By the time I 
had cleared the worst parts of the road along sliding beds of 
detritus it had got quite dark. For two hours more the road 
wound round deep side-valleys from the north until I emerged 
on the open plateau which bears the village and lands of 
Aliabad. Here a little fort had been erected during the tem- 
porary occupation of Hunza, and close to it stands the 
bungalow of the Political Officer. Though Captain P. J. Miles, 
the rightful occupant, was absent on leave, I was able to find 
shelter under its hospitable roof. Cheerful enough the little 
luxuries of this frontier-officer’s home appeared to me. His 
servants too, sturdy Hunza men, knew how to help a belated 
Sahib to an early meal and rest. 

When I awoke in the morning a view of unexpected 
grandeur greeted me.’ Rakiposhi, seen now from the north- 


reer 


a 


3 


“AVAVITY 


WOW 


NaS 


THSOdIM VY 


37 


38 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


east, reared its crown of ice and snow more imposingly than 
ever, and without a speck of cloud or mist. To the north 
mighty peaks, also above 25,000 feet in height, frown down 
upon the valley, while eastwards I could see the range along 
which my onward route was to lead. The two days which I 
had saved by the double marches between Gilgit and Hunza, 
were used for a short halt at Aliabad. I required it in 
order to distribute my baggage into loads suitable for coolie 
transport, and also to dispose of arrears of correspondence, 
&e.. Hunza, it is true, does not boast as yet of a post-office. 
But a “ Political Dak” connects it every second day with 
Gilgit, and in view of the long journey before me it seemed 
right to utilise to the full this last link of regular postal 
communication. 

The first morning brought the Mir’s Wazir, who came to 
assure me of the arrangements that had been made for the 
onward journey. Wazir Humayun is no small personage in 
the Hunza State, being the chief adviser and executive officer 
of the Mir, which rank he holds by hereditary right. He is 
a tall, well-built man of about fifty years, with an imposing 
beard, and makes a striking appearance, even in the semi- 
European costume he has chosen to adopt, evidently as a 
mark of his progressive ideas. It must have been different 
in former years, when the Wazir led Kanjuti raids into 
Sarikol, Gilgit, and Baltistan. A pleasant fire lit up his 
eyes as he talked to me of his expeditions to Tashkurghan and 
into the Braldo Valley. Now that the days of fighting are 
gone he evidently does his best to develop the internal re- 
sources. It is no easy task, for the cultivable land is far too 
limited to provide for the increase of population. Only by 
elaborate irrigation can produce be wrung from the rock- 
strewn slopes of the valley, and the long courses of ‘ kuls’ 
(water-channels) winding along the foot of the mountains 
often in double and treble tiers, show how carefully the 
available supply of water from the glacier-fed streams of the 
side valleys has been utilised. 


CHAP. III. ] . HALT AT ALIABAD 39 


Curious, too, was the information about the relations of 
Hunza with the Celestial Empire. Hunza people have for 
a long time back occupied valleys like that of the Oprang 
stream draining into the Yarkand River; and their continued 
occupation of these tracts, which plainly fall within the 
natural boundaries of Chinese Turkestan, is probably the 
reason why the further periodical transmission of presents 
to the Kashgar authorities has been acquiesced in even after 
the enforcement of British sovereign rights. On the other 
hand Hunza enjoys the benefit of Chinese return: ‘‘ presents”’ 
considerably in excess of those sent, an arrangement mani- 
festly representing the blackmail which the Chinese had 
to pay to safeguard their territory between Sarikol and the 
Karakorum from Kanjuti raiding. On my enquiring after 
records of the relations with the Chinese authorities, the 
Wazir informed me that a quantity of documents, mostly 
Chinese, with Persian or Turki translations, had been re- 
moved from the Mir’s residence at Baltit to Simla, after the 
occupation in 1891. It would be interesting to ascertain 
from these or from the Chinese archives, what official status 
was accorded by Chinese diplomacy to the Kanjuti chiefs. 

Though British supremacy in Hunza, very different from 
Chinese fictions, is a thing of manifest reality, it is 
maintained without material force. The little fort built in 
the open fields of Aliabad is now mainly used as a com- 
missariat ‘“‘ Godown,” and guarded only by a few local levies 
raised among the neighbouring villagers. Yet these levies, 
of whom there are about one hundred and eighty in the state, 
proved useful during the Chitral campaign. As elsewhere 
along the North-West border, these local militia supply an 
excellent instrument for the political management of their 
own territory. Regular pay and easy service are effective in 
attaching them to the ruling order of things. The additional 
advantage which levies on the Afghan border offer for the 
safe employment of notoriously bad characters that would 


40 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


otherwise be likely to give trouble, need fortunately not be 
considered in Hunza. The people have been described by 
those best qualified to judge, as thoroughly tractable and 
obedient to constituted authority, and notwithstanding their 
old raiding reputation, this description seems fully justified. 

On the second day of my stay at Aliabad I received the 
visit of the Mir of Hunza, Muhammad Nazim, who had been 
installed after the occupation in 1891. He is a man of about 
thirty-five, of open and manly bearing, and evidently deserves 
the reputation for intelligence and firmness which he enjoys. 
Our conversation, carried on in Persian, turned naturally 
more to the old conditions of the country than to the reforms 
about which the Mir is said to be energetic. Road-making, 
vaccination, and similar Western improvements seem strange 
as objects of genuine interest in the representative of a 
family for which intrigue and murder were down to the 
present generation the main incidents of life. This trans- 
formation in its rapidity and evident thoroughness 1s a 
striking proof of the results of the pax britannica. 

Through the Wazir I had engaged two Hunza levies who 
had been on the Pamir before, to accompany my camp to 
Sarikol as guides. Muhammad Rafi, the commandant of the 
Mir’s bodyguard, was sent to organise and supervise the 
transport, represented by sixty coolies. Swelled by these 
numbers my caravan looked alarmingly large as it moved off 
on the morning of June 20th. The first march was only a 
short one, to Baltit, the chief place of Hunza, and the Mir’s 
residence. Rising on a cliff from an expanse of terraced fields 
and orchards, the Castle of Baltit looks imposing enough with 
its high walls and towers. Below it, closely packed on the 
hillside, are the rubble-built houses, some two hundred in 
number, of the Hunza capital. The newly built bungalow 
which received me lies immediately below the fine polo 
ground, offering a cheerful sight with its green turf and shady 
Chinar trees. On the opposite southern side of the valley 


CHAP. III. | VISIT TO MIR’S CASTLE 41 


a striking view opened on the Sumair glacier with a hoary ice 
peak behind it. 

The visit which I paid to the Mir in the late afternoon, gave 
me an opportunity to inspect more closely the time-honoured 
castle of the Hunza rulers (see p. 29). The high, massive 
walls of the foundation upon which the inhabited quarters are 
raised, are said to have been the work of Balti workmen who 


HUNZA COOLIES, BEFORE START FROM ALIABAD, 


came in the train of a Balti princess, and from whom the 
place has derived its name, Baltit. From the roof of the 
castle where I found the Mir with his numerous retainers, 
a superb view extends over the main pcrtion of the Hunza 
valley. A newly built pavilion-like structure where I was 
subsequently entertained to tea and cake, occupies the same 
elevated position and offers the same delightful prospect. 


42 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


Notwithstanding some European articles of furniture of 
doubtful taste which had already found their way to this 
apartment, the whole showed clearly the prevalence of Central- 
Asian manufacture. Carpets from Yarkand, Chinese silks 
and gaily-coloured prints from Kashgar could indeed make 
their way to Hunza far more easily over the Sarikol passes 
than Indian articles before the opening of the Gilgit route. 
Even now the latter is open to trade for a far shorter period 
than the passes from the North. 

Returning from my visit to this interesting place I noticed 
several small mosques constructed of wood, and showing on 
their beams and posts a good deal of effective carving. 
Rougher in execution than old Kashmir woodwork, it yet 
displayed, just like the latter, decorative elements of a 
distinctly early Indian type, e.g., the double ‘Chaitya’ 
ornament, the Sacred Wheel, the Svastika. The work I 
Saw was said to be of comparatively recent date, which 
makes the survival of these patterns borrowed from the 
South so much the more curious. 

My march on June 21st looked short on the map, but 
the accounts I had collected of it prepared me for ‘its 
difficulties. Soon after passing, about two miles above 
Baltit, the picturesque fort-village of Altit, the valley con- 
tracts to a gorge of rugged rocks, almost without a trace of 
vegetation. A narrow path winds along the cliffs, sometimes 
close by the swollen river, sometimes several hundred feet 
above it. A small alluvial plateau, reached some four miles 
beyond, bears the little village of Muhammadabad. But the 
track leads far below over the sandy bed of the river. This 
bed indeed forms the easiest route up the valley, and only 
when its water is low in the winter can ponies be brought up 
or down. The frequent crossing of the river which this winter 
route necessitates is altogether impossible when the snow on 
the mountains has once begun to melt. 

Accordingly a high rugged spur had to be climbed and the 


CHAP. III. ] GHAMMESAR LANDSLIP 43 


débris of an enormous old landslip to be traversed before I 
could descend again to the riverside and reach the camping- 
ground of Ataabad. The hamlet which gives this name was 
scarcely to be seen from below, and shut in by an amphi- 
theatre of absolutely bare rocky heights, our halting-place 
looked a dismal spot. About half a century ago the 
Ghammesar landslip, already referred to, is said to have 
blocked the whole valley, when from Ataabad upwards an 


FORT-VILLAGE OF ALTIT. 


enormous lake was formed. The black glacier-ground sand, 
which the Hunza River brings down and deposits in large 
quantities, rose in thick dust with the wind which blew down 
the valley in the evening. Drink and food tasted equally 
eritty ; it seemed a foretaste of the Khotan desert. In so 
desolate a neighbourhood I felt doubly grateful for the Dak- 
runner who at nightfall brought a long-expected home mail. 

The march of the next day proved a trying experience. A 


44 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


short distance above Ataabad the river passes along a series 
of cross-spurs which at their foot are almost perpendicular. 
So the path climbs up their sides, and clings to them where 
they are too steep by means of narrow galleries. These are 
carried in parts over branches of trees forced into fissures of 
the rock and covered with small stones. Elsewhere narrow 
natural ledges are widened by flat slabs packed over them. 
In some places these galleries, or ‘ Rafiks,’ as they are locally 
called, turn in sharp zigzags on the side of cliffs where a false 
step would prove fatal, while at others again they are steep 
enough to resemble ladders. To carry loads along these 
galleries is difficult enough, 
and for cattle as well as 
ponies, surefooted as the latter 
must be in Hunza, they 
are wholly impassable. 
At more than one place 
even ‘ Yolchi Beg,’ my 
little terrier, had _ relue- 
tantly to submit to the 
indignity of being 
carried, though on 


Our celrin bs”. on 
Kashmir --l-* bad 
found few rocks 
that would re- 
fuse him a 
foothold. 
Scrambles 
Od. hers 
kind  al- 
ternated 
alone the 
whole 


RAFIK ABOVE ATAABAD. march 


CHAP. III. ] CLIMBS OVER RAFIKS 45 


with passages over shingly slopes and climbs over rock-strewn 
wastes, Only at a few spots the barren grey and yellow of the 
rocks was relieved by some green shrubs growing where scanty 
watercourses forced their way down the fissured slopes. After 
- gix hours’ steady climbing and scrambling it was a relief to 
see at last the valley widen again, and two hours more 
brought me to Ghulmit village. It occupies a wide alluvial 
fan on the flank of a considerable glacier, the white crest of 
which could be seen from a distance rising above the orchards 
and fields. 

At Ghulmit that part of the Hunza Valley is entered which 
is known as Little Guhyal. It takes this name from its 
inhabitants, Wakhi immigrants from Wakhan or Guhyal on 
the Oxus. It was easy to notice the change of race in the 
assembly of well-built handsome village headmen which 
received me some distance from the village. Headed by the 
Mir’s relation, Muhammad Nafiz, who acts as his representa- 
tive among the villages of this part of the valley, they escorted 
me in stately procession to the little orchard of apricot trees 
where my camp was to be pitched. I was delighted to hear 
at last the language of Wakhan, which had attracted my 
attention years before I first came to India, as a remarkably 
conservative descendant of the ancient tongue of Eastern Ivan. 
It seemed strange that I should have first touched the 
linguistic borders of old Iran, high up in these mountains. The 
fact was bound to remind me that the Pamirs which I was 
about to approach, mark the point of contact not only of great 
geographical divisions, but also of equally great language 
families and of the races speaking them. Close to the Kilik 
Pass is the point where the watersheds bounding the drainage 
areas of the Oxus, Indus, and Yarkand Rivers meet ; and it is 
plain that as far as history can take us back, these areas 
belonged to the sphere of the dominant races of Iran, India, 
and Turkestan. 

The Wakhis of Little Guhyal, numbering altogether about 


46 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


a thousand souls, are a fine stalwart type, taller than the men 
of Hunza and usually showing clear-cut and intelligent 
features. The characteristic eagle-nose of the true Iranian 
was well represented, and their complexion, too, seemed to 
me distinctly fair. Many of them talk Persian with more or 
less fluency, and I was thus able to indulge in short chats. 


WAKHI VILLAGERS, GHULMIT. 


The connection with the people of Wakhan and Sarikol is 
still maintained by occasional marriages, and the original 
immigration from the Oxus Valley is distinctly remembered. 
How the Hunza people proper, undoubtedly more warlike and 
so pressed for land, acquiesced in this invasion, seems difficult 
to explain. The peaceful character of the Wakhis is curiously 
symbolised by the implement which every respectable house- 


CHAP. Il. ] WAKHI SETTLEMENTS 47 


holder carries about with him on state occasions. It is a long 
staff with a small heart-shaped shovel of wood at the end, 
used for opening and damming up the irrigation courses that 
bring fertility to the laboriously cleared terrace lands. 

Ghulmit cannot have seen many Sahibs, for a large 
assembly of villagers remained for a long time round the neat 
little fruit garden where I was encamped. Next morning we 
made a late start owing to a change of coolies, when time is 
always lost until every one settles down to the load he fancies. 
But the march to Pasu proved short, and after the previous 
days’ experience unusually easy. This does not mean, of 
course, that the track is as yet fit for perambulators. For a 
short distance above Ghulmit the Ghulkin glacier comes down 
close to the river, and the numerous channels. in which its 
ash-grey waters rush forth, are troublesome to cross at this 
season. But the valley is open, and the stony plateaus along 
the right riverbank afforded easy going. Just before the end 
of the march the road passes in front of the Pasu glacier, 
which comes down with its débris-covered masses of ice from 
a great peak of over 25,000 feet, also visible from Aliabad and 
Baltit. An enormous side moraine which is crossed by the 
route, shows that the glacier must have advanced further at a 
former period. 

The little village of Pasu, situated immediately to the north 
of the glacier-head, formed with its green fields and orchards 
a pleasant contrast to the bleak scenery around. It owes its 
existence to the irrigation cuts which catch some of the water 
issuing from the glacier. A little orchard in the midst of the 
few scattered homesteads which form the village, was my 
cheerful camping-ground for the day. The cooler air and 
the backward state of the crops of oats and millet were 
indications of the elevation of the place (circ. 8,000 feet 
above the sea). The flowers by the side of the fields, scanty 
as they were, gave the whole a springlike look which was most 
pleasing. 


48 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


The march of June 24th brought me first to the huge Batur 
glacier, some three miles above Pasu. Probably over twenty- 
four miles long, it fills completely a large side valley which 
descends from the north-west, and unlike the glaciers pre- 
viously passed, it advances its frozen walls down to the river- 
bed. They are covered for miles up the valley with an extra- 
ordinary mass of detritus, and thanks to this thick crust of 


VIEW TO NORTH-EAST OF PASU VILLAGE. 


rock and shingle the crossing of the glacier was comparatively 
easy. All the same it took me nearly an hour to scramble 
across the mile and half of the glacier, and the slippery 
ground delayed the coolies still longer. ‘There are years 
when masses of ice pushed down from the unexplored upper 
reach of the glacier make the crossing far more difficult even 
for men, and altogether close the route for animals. It is in 
view of such obstacles, which no skill of the engineer can ever 


CHAP. III. ] BATUR GLACIER 49 


completely overcome, that one realises the great natural 
defences of the Hunza Valley route against invasion from 
the North. | 

Above the Batur glacier the valley contracts and continues 
between bare walls of rock and shingle to Khaibar, the next 
inhabited place above Pasu. The river, no longer fed by the 
glacier streams from the high ranges, is now far smaller in 


BATUR GLACIER, SEEN FROM SOUTH-EAST. 


volume, yet still quite unfordable in summer. The mountains 
on either side culminate in serrated rock pinnacles of fantastic 
forms, but views of mighty masses of ice and snow no longer 
meet the eye. 

The hamlet of Khaibar, which I reached after a tiring 
march of six hours, lies on an alluvial fan at the mouth of a 


narrow side valley. Scanty indeed are the fields of the place, 
5 


50 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


and one wonders how 
they can support even 
the half-dozen home- 
steads. Yet even 
here where Nature is 
so harsh, defence 
against human foes HUNZA VALLEY BELOW KHAIBAR. 

was not so very long 

ago a necessary condition of existence. The path which 
leads to the plateau is guarded at a point of great natural 
streneth by a rude gateway or ‘Darband,’ a necessary 
precaution seeing that the opposite bank of the river was 
easily accessible to the people of Nagir, the hereditary 
enemies of Hunza. 

From Khaibar to Misgar there are two routes available, 
one leading through the hamlet of Gircha by the left bank of 
the river, and the other through Khudabad on the right. The 
former, which was said to be easier if the water of the river 
was not too high, was reported impracticable soon after I had 
started on the morning of June 25th. Hence the track on 
the right bank had to be taken. Without offering exceptional 
difficulties that day, it was trying enough, leading almost the 
whole length over boulder-strewn slopes and along banks of 
slatey shingle. Just opposite to the hamlet of Murkhun, where 


CHAP. III. | MARCHING OF KANJUTIS 51 


a route to the Shimshal Valley opens eastwards, the path 
descends over a long Rafik built out in the usual fashion from 
an almost perpendicular rock face. Curiously enough at one 
point of the narrow ledge which bears the gallery, there issues 
a little spring of deliciously clear water, offering welcome 
refreshment to the wayfarer. 

Not far beyond I met, to my surprise, the messenger whom 
the Wazir of Hunza had despatched to Tashkurghan to notify 
to the Political Munshi there my approaching arrival. The 
man had left Hunza on the morning of the 18th, and now he 
was returning with the Munshi’s reply and a considerable 
load of merchandise which he was bringing back 
as a private venture. As an illustration of the 
marching powers of the men of Hunza this feat a 
deserves record. The distance from Hunza to, it : 


the Kilik is about eighty-one miles, and of re 
the character of the track my experiences nee 
so far described will suffice to give an 
idea. In addition to this and half the 
return journey, the man had covered 
twice the route along the Taghdum- 
bash Pamir to and from Tashkure- 
han, a distance of at least 
eighty miles each way. 
Performances of this 
kind make it easy to 
understand how the raids 
of Kanjuti parties could 
be carried to so great 
distances, and thanks 
to the rapidity of 
their movements, 
usually with im- ye 
punity. 
At Khudabad, RAFIK NEAR MURKHUN. 


52 THROUGH HUNZA (CHAP. II. 


a hamlet of eight houses, my day’s march ended. Here 
I passed once more out of the Wakhi area into that of small 
Hunza settlements. The fact reminds me of the strange 
variety of tongues which at that time could be heard in 
my camp. Apart from Turki conversation with my personal 
servants, Persian served me as a convenient medium with 
my Wakhi guides and the more intelligent villagers. My 
coolies spoke partly Wakhi, partly Burisheski, while the 
Dard dialect of the Shinas was represented by ‘‘ Raja’’ Ajab 


KANJUTIS CARRYING MERCHANDISE, 


Khan, a relative of the hill chiefs of Punyal, whose services 
as an orderly Captain Manners Smith had kindly secured for 
me, and by his retainer. In addition to these languages 
there was Hindustani talked between my Sub-Surveyor and 
Jasvant Singh, his Rajput cook. Had I brought the Kash- 
miri servant whom I had first engaged before Sadak Akhun 
joined me from Kashgar, I should have had an opportunity 
to keep up my Kashmiri also. Notwithstanding this diversity 
of tongues things arranged themselves easily, for everybody 
seemed to know something at least of another’s language. 


CHAP. III. | CLIMBS TO MISGAR 53 


The march from Khudabad to Misgar which I did on the 
26th of June had been described to me as the worst bit of the 
route, and as an Alpine climb it certainly did not fall short 
of the estimate I had been led to form of it. The Chaparsun 
River, which comes down from the glaciers near the Irshad 
and Chillinji Passes in the north-west, was fortunately low at 
the early morning hour, and could be forded immediately 
above Khudabad. A long detour and the use of a rope 
bridge were thus avoided. But the succession of climbs 
which followed in the main valley beat all previous ex- 
perience. Scrambles up precipitous faces of slatey rocks, 
alternated with still more trying descents to the river-bed ; 
‘Rafiks’ and ladders of the type already described were in 
numerous places the only possible means of getting over the 
cliffs, often hundreds of feet above the river. The previous 
five days, however, had accustomed me somewhat to such 
modes of progress, and it was in comparative freshness that I 
emerged at last in the less confined portion of the valley above 
its junction with the gorge of the Khunjerab River. Some 
miles before Misgar I was met on a desolate little plateau by 
the levies of that place, a remarkably striking set of men, 
and conducted to their village. 

After the barren wilderness of rocks and glacier streams 
through which I had passed, the smiling green fields of 
Misgar were a delight to the eye. They are situated on a 
broad plateau some 800 feet above the left river-bank, 
and amply irrigated by channels fed from a_ stream of 
crystal-clear water which issues from a gorge to the east. 
The millet and ‘Rishka’ were still in young shoots, since 
the summer comes late at this, the northernmost village of 
the valley. In the midst of the fields and the scattered home- 
steads I found an uncultivated spot just large enough for my 
tent, and enjoyed again the pleasure of camping on a green 
sward. Close by was the Ziarat of a local saint, Pir Aktash 
Sahib, a simple enclosure adorned with many little flags which 


54 THROUGH HUNZA [CHAP. III. 


fluttered gaily in the wind, just as if they marked the 
approach to a Buddhist establishment in Sikkim or Ladak. 
The open view across the broad valley was most cheerful after 
the gloomy confinement of the previous camping grounds. 
Far away to the north-west I even beheld a snowy ridge which 
clearly belonged to the watershed towards the Oxus. I felt at 
last that the Pamir was near. 

At Misgar I was able to discharge the hardy hillmen who 
had carried our impedimenta over such trying ground without 
the slightest damage, and on the morning of June 27th I moved 
on with fresh transport. This consisted chiefly of ponies, as 
the route further on is open to baggage animals at all seasons. 
Though the road no longer offered special difficulties, it 
was tiring owing to the boulder-strewn wastes it crosses 
for a great part. At Topkhana, where there stands a half- 
ruined watch-tower amidst traces of former habitations and 
fields, I was met by a jolly-looking young Sarikoli, whose 
appearance and outfit at once showed that he came from 
Chinese territory. It was one of the soldiers of the ‘Karaul’ 
or guard kept by the Chinese on the Mintaka Pass who had 
been sent down to inquire as to my arrival. He carried a long 
matchlock with the gable-ended rest sticking out beyond it, 
an indispensable implement of the Celestial soldiery of the old 
type all through the empire. Ruddy-cheeked and clothed in 
fur cap, mighty boots, and a series of thick ‘Chogas’ or 
coats, the young fellow looked serviceable enough. Less so 
his matchlock, which had lost its breach-piece, and in the 
barrel of which a broken ramrod had stuck fast evidently for 
many along day. He assured me that the expected yaks 
and ponies were already waiting for me, and tried to make 
himself as useful on the rest of the march as if he belonged to 
my following of Hunza levies. 

In reality the frontier line seems of little consequence to 
the Wakhi herdsmen who live on either side of it. When after 
a march of over twelve miles I arrived at Murkushi, where 


UVOSIN LY GHOuVHOSIad 


‘ 


NHWITIH ILnr 


NV 


10 
pie) 


56 THROUGH HUNZA [ CHAP. III. 


the routes to the Kilik and Mintaka diverge, there was a set 
of picturesque Wakhis from across the border waiting for me. 
They had left their yaks on this side of the pass, where they 
found better grazing. It was a pleasure to behold these 
sturdy fellows in their dresses of Yarkand fabrics showing 
all colours of the rainbow. Their clear-cut Iranian features, 
almost European in complexion, seemed to contrast pleasantly 
with their Kirghiz get-up. Down in the little wood of stunted 
birch-trees by the river where I camped for the night, it 
was scarcely as cold as might be expected at an elevation of 
nearly 12,000 feet. At 6 a.m. on the following morning the 
thermometer showed 47° F. 

A march of four hours brought me on the 28th of June to the 
high grazing ground known as Shirin Maidan (‘‘the Milky 
Plain’’), close to the foot of the Kilik Pass. Here the change 
in the temperature due to the great elevation made itself 
most perceptible. When the sun passed behind light clouds 
at noon and a fresh breeze blew down the pass it was bitterly 
cold, and I was glad to get into my fur coat as soon as the 
baggage arrived. 

The range immediately to the north which is crossed by the 
pass, appeared low by the side of the rugged peaks which 
show their snowy heads further down in the valley. More. 
imposing than the watershed towards the Taghdumbash, 
looked a distant glacier-covered ridge visible through a side 
valley westwards. Behind it lay the sources of the Oxus, 
or more exactly of the Ab-i-Panja branch. 

My Guhyal coolies and Hunza levies had now all been dis- 
charged, and I was left to enjoy the change in my camp 
surroundings. Muhammad Yusuf, the Sarikoli headman, and 
his seven relatives who brought the yaks that were to take my 
baggage onwards, were cheerful to look at and to talk to. 
They understood Turki quite well and were most communica- 
tive. In their midst I felt that I had passed out of India. 


YAKS STARTING FOR KILIK PASS. 


CHAPTER IV 
ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR 


, WHEN early on the morning of the 29th of June I struck camp 
to move over the Kilik or ‘ Kalik’ Pass, as it is called by 
Kanjutis, the ground was covered with hoar frost and the 
little. streams which came down from the pass were partly 
frozen. I tried to start early in order to find the snow still 
hard; but the packing of the baggage on yaks proved 
a lengthy affair, and it was not till 8 a.m. that the caravan 
moved off. I had the satisfaction of seeing the servants whom 
the previous marches had tried a great deal, now comfortably 
mounted on yaks. The ascent lay northwards through a 
comparatively open though steep nullah for about an hour. 
Then the ground widened, and the flat watershed still covered 
with snow came into view. On the east the pass is flanked 
by spurs of a rugged peak, which rises to a height of nearly 


20,000 feet. On the west two small glaciers stretch down 
57 


58 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR [omap. iv. 


to it from a somewhat lower range, the culminating peak 
of which seems to mark the point where the drainage 
areas of the Oxus, Indus, and Yarkand Rivers meet. On the 
flat plain, about half a mile broad, which forms the top of 
the Kilik, it was not easy to fix the actually lowest point, the 
true watershed. When I had ascertained the spot that looked 
like it, a halt was made to boil the water for the hypsometer. 


KILIK PASS SEEN 
FROM KHUSHBEL, 


It proved a troublesome business in the bitterly cold wind 
which was blowing across, and by the time that I got the 
readings which gave the height as cire. 15,800 feet, it began 
‘to snow. Bleak and shrouded in clouds looked the range to 
the north, which marks the boundary of the Russian Pamirs, 
but there was nothing striking in its outlines, nor was the 
amount of snow as great as on the serrated high peaks towards 
Hunza. The ride down in the soft snow and in the face of 
the cutting wind was not a pleasant experience, but the yaks 


CHAP. IV. | CROSSING OF KILIK PASS 59 


proved most useful as snow-ploughs, and by 1 p.m., after a 
descent of over two hours, I found myself at Kok-torok (** the 
Blue Boulder,” in Turki) on the flat of the Taghdumbash 
Pamir. 

An imposing cavalcade met me as I approached the place 
where my camp was to be pitched. Munshi Sher Muhammad, 
the Political Munshi stationed at Tashkurghan under the 
orders of Mr. Macartney, had come up from his post to greet 
me; and attracted, no doubt, by his example, the Sarikoli 
Bees in charge of the several portions of the country above 
Tashkurghan, also awaited my arrival. Munshi Sher 
Muhammad, a fine-looking, active man, introduced himself 
as an old pupil of the Oriental College at Lahore of which I 
had held charge so long. The arrangements he had made 
for my journey down to Tashkurghan were all that could be 
desired and showed his influence with the local authorities as 
much as his eagerness to help me. It was bitterly cold 
during this first day on the Taghdumbash as, soon after my 
arrival, a strong wind sprung up blowing across the valley 
from the north-east and bringing light snow atintervals. The 
observation of Captain Deasy, who had encamped at the same 
spot in 1897, shows that its elevation is close on 14,000 feet. 

On the 80th of June the sun shone brightly when I rose, 
and though the temperature at 6 a.m. was only 87° F. in 
the shade, it felt pleasant enough as the air was still) The 
surrounding ridges, all snow-capped, stood out with perfect 
clearness against the blue sky. The conditions were 
exceptionally favourable for the survey work which was to 
be commenced here, and by 8 a.m. the surveyor and myself 
were on our way to the top of the Khushbel spur which was 
to serve as a station. This spur descends from the high 
range on the east of the Kilik Pass towards the valley, and 
by its detached position offers an extensive view over the 
upper portion of the Taghdumbash. We were able to ascend 
close to its top, 16,820 feet above the sea, by means of yaks 


60 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR | [cuap. iv. 


an advantage which, in view of the subsequent work, was not 
to be despised. The way in which the sure-footed animals 
carried us and our instruments steadily up, first over steep grassy 
slopes, then over fields of snow, and finally over the shingly 
beds of rock, was to me a novel and gratifying experience. 
It was clear that by a judicious use of the yak the difficulties 
which the high elevations offer to mountaineering in these 
regions could be reduced for the initial stages. From the 
top of Khushbel we were able to identify some peaks both 
towards the Murghab Valley and Hunza which had been 
triangulated by Captain Deasy. While Ram Singh was busy 
with his plane-table, I did my first work with the Bridges-Lee 
photo-theodolite, an excellent instrument, which was now on 
its first trial in Central Asia. By noon the wind began to 
blow again, which seems a regular feature of the atmospheric 
conditions at this season, and I was glad when by 6 p.m. 
the shelter of the tent was reached. 

Koktorok is so near to the Wakhjir Pass, which marks the 
watershed between the Oxus and the Yarkand River drainage 
systems, that I could not resist the temptation of visiting it 
during the two days which were required for the Sub-Surveyor’s 
work round this camp. It would have weighed on my 
topographical conscience to have passed by without seeing 
at least the head of the Wakhan Valley and the glacier which 
Lord Curzon first demonstrated to be the true source of the 
Oxus. Accordingly, leaving all heavy baggage with the Sub- 
Surveyors party at Koktorok, I set out on the morning of 
the 1st of July towards the Wakhjir Pass. The road led first 
up the open valley towards the west, and then after some five 
miles turned into a narrower side valley in a south-westerly 
direction. Large patches of snow and the gradual disappear- 
ance of the thick, coarse grass, which was to be seen round 
Koktorok Camp, marked the higher elevation. I pitched my 
tent at the point which offered the last bit of comparatively 
dry ground, cire. 15,800 feet above the sea. Higher up 


CHAP. IV. ] WATERSHED TOWARDS OXUS 61 


there was snow at the bottom of the valley, or boggy soil 
where the snow had just melted. In front I had the view of 
numerous small glaciers, which clothe the slopes of the range 
south of the pass. My intention of going up to the latter the 
same day was frustrated by a storm which brought sleet and 
snow. In the cutting cold my people felt the scarcity of 
fuel; for even the coarse grass known to the Sarikolis as 


SNOWY RANGE SOUTH OF HEAD OF AB-I-PANJA VALLEY. 


‘Dildung’ and to the Kirghiz as ‘ Burse,’ the dry roots of 
which supply the only fuel of this region—apart from dry yak 
dung—was no longer to be found at this altitude. 

By the morning of the next day the weather had cleared, 
and the ascent to the pass could be effected without difficulty. 
One and a half hour’s ride on a yak over easily sloping snow 
beds and past a small lake brought me to the watershed. It 


62 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR | [cnmap. rv. 


was clearly marked by the divergent direction of the small 
streams which drained the melting snow; and the hypsometer, 
which I boiled on a boulder-strewn patch of dry ground close 
by, gave the height as close on 16,200 feet. 

A glacier of pure white ice pushes its tongue to within a 
few hundred yards from the north. The descent to the west 
of the pass took me into Afghan territory, but in this 


PHOTO-THEODOLITE VIEW OF OXUS SOURCE GLACIERS. 


mountain solitude there was no need to consider whether this 
short inroad into His Highness the Amir’s dominions was 
authorized or not. The soft snow impeded my progress for 
about a mile and a half, but then the ground got clear, and I 
was able to follow without trouble the stream from the pass 
down to where it joins the far greater one which drains the 
glaciers at the true head of the Wakhan Valley. A climb of 


CHAP. IV.] OXUS SOURCE GLACIERS 63 


some eight hundred feet up the mountain-side to the north 
gave me a splendid view of the valley through which the 
collected waters of the Ab-i-Panja flow down towards Bozai 
Gumbaz and Sarhad. The glaciers, too, from which they 
chiefly issue, were clearly in view. An hour’s work with the 
photo-theodolite enabled me to retain the whole of this 
impressive panorama. It left no doubt as to Lord Curzon 


VIEW DOWN AB-I-PANJA VALLEY FROM NEAR WAKHJIR PASS. 


being right in placing here the true source of the great 
river. 

The high ranges which line the valley precluded a view 
further west towards Wakhan proper and Badakhshan. Yet 
it was a strange and joyful sensation to know that I stood at 
last at the eastern threshold of that distant region, including 
Bactria and the Upper Oxus Valley, which has had a special 


64 ON -THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR _[cnap. rv. 


fascination for me ever since I was a boy. How I wished to 
have been able to follow the waters of the Oxus on their 
onward course! All the interests of ancient Iran cluster in 
one form or the other round the banks of the great stream. 
Since the earliest times it has brought fertility and culture to 
the regions which it waters. Here at its source there was 
only a silent, lifeless waste of rock and ice. Yet I found it 
hard to leave this desolate scene. 

The evening glow was spreading over the valley when I 
retraced my route to the pass, and it was dark before I 
returned to camp. I found there to my delight an eagerly- 
expected home mail, which the attentive Wazir of Hunza 
had sent by special messenger over the Kilik. With it came 
a batch of the latest telegrams of Reuter, which were to be 
forwarded to Mr. Macartney at Kashgar after perusal. They 
brought news of the attack on the Peking Legations and of the 
fighting about Tien-tsin. It was strange to read here at the 
westernmost extremity of the Chinese Empire of the events 
which had convulsed its capital in the far Kast scarcely more 
than a week before. I thought it fortunate indeed at the 
time that this disturbing news would probably take months to 
reach the population of the outlying province of Kashgar. 
And I felt still more grateful for the time-honoured decentrali- 
sation of the Celestial Empire which made any immediate 
influence of those troubles on Chinese Turkestan and on my 
programme of explorations appear distinctly improbable. 

On the 83rd of July I marched back to Koktorok, and having 
picked up the Sub-Surveyor and heavy baggage, continued in 
the broad, grassy valley down to Tigharman-su. 

There I camped near two Kirghiz felt huts or ‘ Ak-uis’ 
pitched by Muhammad Yusuf’s people, who graze their flocks 
of sheep and yaks here during the summer. On the following 
morning appeared Karakash Beg, the Sarikoli headman in 
charge of the Mintaka route, to escort me further down the 
valley. We were nearing, after a march of some six miles, 


CHAP. IV. ] A CHANCE MEETING 65 


the post at the northern foot of the Mintaka Pass, when a 
report was brought to my guide of a ‘‘ Russian officer,’’ who 
had just reached the post via the Payik Pass from the north. 
Having heard nothing before of such a visitor being expected, 
I rode up with some curiosity, and soon found myself face to 
face with the reported arrival. It wasa young German officer, 
Lieutenant F., of the Bavarian Foot Guards, who had just 


KIRGHIZ ‘AK-UIS’ AT TIGHARMAN-SU. 


travelled down from the head of the Russian railways in 
Farghana, and was now intending to make his way to Gilgit 
and India. He knew nothing of the special permission of the 
Indian Government, without which the Hunza route is closed 
to European travellers, and was also surprised to hear of the 
time required for the journey down to Kashmir. Finding that 
his leave would not suffice for this extension of his trip, 
Lieutenant F. there and then, while refreshing himself at 
6 


66 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR [cuap. tv. 


the breakfast my men had soon got ready for us, made up 
his mind to visit Kashgar instead. Accepting my invitation 
to share my camp, he accompanied me to Sarik-Jilga, the end 
of my march. 

On the way, and then at table, my young guest told me 
much of interest concerning his ten days’ ride oyer the 
Russian Pamirs. Though far too rapid for close observation, 
it was a performance highly creditable to his endurance. Of 
outfit and provisions he had brought scarcely more than is 
wanted for a few days’ outing in the Bavarian Alps, but he 
had soon been obliged to provide himself against the rigours 
of a Pamir summer, for which he was little prepared, by pur- 
chasing a large fur coat off the back of a Kirghiz. I won- 
dered inwardly how he managed to get rid of the livestock 
likely to be involved in this transaction. As the Kirghiz had 
so far been his only hosts except at the Russian fort of 
Pamirski Post, and as he could not make himself readily 
understood by them, his bodily wants had found but scant 
satisfaction. His two ponies were also nearly done up by the 
hardships of these precipitous marches. On the other hand, 
there was no need for the two revolvers which he was 
carrying in his belt, and after our conversation he soon found 
for them a less prominent receptacle. For, indeed, if the 
Pamir region does not yet offer inns and rest-houses after the 
fashion of the Alps, it may boast of an equal degree of security. 

Comparing notes from north and south we spent a cheerful 
evening together. Karakash Beg and his followers shared 
my satisfaction at this chance meeting. For the assurance 
that the unexpected arrival was after all not a ‘ Rus’ relieved 
them of all responsibility. On the 5th of July we rode down 
together some fifteen miles to Ghujakbai (the ‘ Ujadbhai ’ 
of former maps), where the valley turns to the north and 
considerably widens. The snow-capped ranges on both sides 
now receded, and the widening expanse of the valley vividly 
demonstrated the importance which belongs to the Taghdum- 


CHAP. IV. ] KIRGHIZ AT DAFDAR 67 


bash from ancient times as a great natural thoroughfare over 
the ‘ Roof of the World.” Here my newly-found companion 
left me in order to hurry onwards to Tashkurghan. He had 
been fitted out with what was needed in the way of tinned 
provisions, &c., in order to take him comfortably through to 
Kashgar; and M. Sher Muhammad, for whom I gave him a 
letter, subsequently secured for him the change of animals 
and the passport of the local Chinese commandant which were 
required for his further progress. 

My way on July 6th lay from Ghujakbai first over a broad 
alluvial plateau which stretches for miles up the valley 
of the stream coming from the Khunjerab Pass. <As_ it 
approaches the Taghdumbash Darya it spreads out fan-wise, 
and resembles most closely the ‘ Karewa’ plateaus which form 
so characteristic a feature of the Kashmir Valley. <A ride of 
some five miles across this barren waste brought me to 
Dafdar, where, near a couple of ‘ Ak-uis,’ I found a 
picturesque assembly of Wakhis and Kirghiz awaiting me. 
The latter had come from Pisling, a small settlement across 
the river. By the side of their stalwart and handsome Wakhi 
neighbours they looked somewhat insignificant; but their 
cheerful expression and joviality amply made up for the defects 
of stature and countenance. A short distance below Dafdar 
I came upon the first traces of cultivation. On the scattered 
fields which little channels from a side stream irrigate, the 
crops of oats and barley have evidently a hard struggle. All 
the same it was a pleasure to meet again with this evidence 
of permanent habitation. It is only during the last ten 
years that the latter has become possible, since Kanjuti raids 
have ceased and order has been secured for the valley. 

It was a novel sensation, after the weeks passed in narrow 
gorges and amidst snow-covered heights, to ride along these 
broad, smiling slopes gently descending from the foot of the 
mountains. Wherever water reaches them from the side 
valleys, the ground was covered with a carpet of flowers and 


68 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR _[cuap. tv. 


herbs which scented the air quite perceptibly. When about 
midway of the march I made a short halt on the green 
meadows of Ghan, a summer grazing-ground, I could easily 
imagine myself enjoying a bright summer day on a Hun- 
garian ‘‘puszta.”” A troop of ponies turned loose to graze 
around were lustily enjoying the delights of freedom and rich 


WAKHIS AND KIRGHIZ AT DAFDAR. 


pasture. To watch their lazy, happy ways was a pleasant 
distraction. 

Light, fleecy clouds hung over the mountains, and it was 
only in the afternoon when approaching the end of my march 
of some eighteen miles that I could perceive, rising above 
them in the north, the glistening mass of a great snowy 
dome. This was Muz-tagh-Ata, ‘the Father of Ice Moun- 
tains,’ which I had so long wished to behold. At Yurgal 


CHAP. Iv.| APPROACH TO TASHKURGHAN 69 


Gumbaz, where I pitched my camp by the side of the river 
now grey and swollen with the water of glacier streams, it was 
distinctly warm until the wind began to blow up the valley. 

Next morning we were ready for an early start, for the 
neighbourhood of Tashkurghan and such comforts as it could 
offer was an attraction for my people no less than myself. 
Muztagh-Ata, still so distant, showed itself in fascinating 
clearness during the early hours of the morning. Its grand 
dome of ice filled the vista behind the north end of the valley. 
After a few miles’ ride over a stony level ‘ Dasht,’ my guide, 
Rashid Beg, the Ming-bashi (“‘ head of a thousand men ’’) of 
Tashkurghan, broke his usual silence, and indicated a white 
spot in the far distance as the goal of our march. It was 
the Fort of Tashkurghan, rising over the western bank of the 
river. Then I reached a strip of delightfully green sward 
stretching along the irrigation channel which carries the 
water of the river to the fields of Tughlanshahr, the collection 
of hamlets opposite Tashkurghan. For miles the path winds 
along it, and ultimately reaches the fertile tract where the 
water spreads itself over carefully-terraced fields. 

Whether it was the bright surroundings or the historical 
interests associated with the place, the sight of the walls of 
Tashkurghan rising higher and higher above the flat filled me 
with emotion. I knew that they did not hide imposing 
structures or special comforts. Yet they marked the com- 
pletion of a considerable part of my journey and my entry 
upon the ground which was to occupy my researches. The 
swollen state of the river prevented the use of the nearest 
route, and I had to descend almost to the foot of the spur 
which projects into the valley below Tashkurghan from the 
eastern range, before a practicable ford was reached. Even 
here, where the river spreads in about half a dozen branches 
over the flat meadow land, the crossing was no easy matter, 
For the water reached almost up to the saddles, and flowed 
with great rapidity. At last, however, though wet to the 


70 ON THE TAGHDUMBASH PAMIR [cuap. Iv. 


waist, we got safely across, and leaving the care of the 
baggage to the village headmen who had assisted me in 
the passage, I gallopped over the rich meadows towards the 
foot of the cliffs on which the fort stands. 

M. Sher Muhammad awaited me near the comfortable 
Kirghiz ‘ Yurt’ (felt hut), once belonging to Major F. E. 
Younghusband, which he had pitched for my accommodation, 
and which in the meantime had proved useful for my fellow- 
traveller of the previous days. The news that the Chinese 
Amban of the Sarikol district raised no objection to my 
proceeding westwards of Muztagh-Ata was a welcome piece 
of intelligence. Less so that Mr. Macartney’s Dak for 
Gilgit, with which I had hoped to post my Europe mail, had 
already started by the route on the left river-bank, and had 
consequently missed me. Fortunately it is easier to rectify 
such postal mishaps in Central Asia than in civilised Europe, 
and after an evening busily spent in writing, a special 
messenger rode off with my own mail bag, which was to 
catch up the Dak courier before he had started from his first 
night’s quarters. 


CHINESE FORT WITHIN RUINED TOWN OF TASHKURGHAN. 


CHAPTER V 
IN SARIKOL 


THe 8th of July and the day following were given up to a halt 
at Tashkurghan. ‘There were not only fresh supplies and 
transport to be arranged for, but also much information to be 
collected on points of historical and archzeological interest. 
For Tashkurghan, the chief place of the mountain tract known 
as Sarikol, is undoubtedly a site of considerable antiquity. 
Its importance reaches back to the days when the traders 
from the classical West exchanged here their goods for the 
produce of ancient China. As far as local observations go, 
everything tends to support the view first expressed by Sir 
Henry Rawlinson, that Tash-kurghan, “‘the Stone Tower,” 


retains the position as well as the name of the Affwoe ripyoc, 
71 


72 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V. 


which Ptolemy, and before him the great geographer, Marinus 
of Tyre, knew as the emporium on the extreme western 
frontier of Serike, i.c., the Central Chinese Dominions. 
Nature itself has marked the site not only as the administra- 
tive centre for the valleys forming the Sarikol region, but also 
as the most convenient place for trade exchange on an ancient 
and once important route connecting great portions of Central 
Asia with the far West and East. From Tashkurghan the 
road lies open equally to Kashgar and Khotan, and thus to 
both the great routes which lead from Turkestan into the 
interior of China. Here also the two best lines of communi- 
cation across the Pamir converge. The Taghdumbash 
Valley, giving direct access to the Upper Oxus, is met by the 
route which crosses by the Naiza-Tash Pass into the Aksu 
Valley and thence by the Great Pamir leads down to Shighnan 
and Badakhshan. 

At Tashkurghan I had the satisfaction of finding myself 
once more on the track of Hiuen-Tsiang, the great Chinese 
pilgrim, whose footsteps I had traced to so many a sacred 
Buddhist site of ancient India. Travelling about a.p. 649 
from Badakhshan to Khotan, he passed through the district 
of Kie-pan-to, long ago identified by Sir Henry Yule as the 
modern Sarikol. Examining on the spot the description he 
and. the earlier Chinese pilgrim, Sung-yun (cire. 500 A.D.), 
give of the old capital of that territory, | found it to agree 
most closely with the position and remains of Tashkurghan. 
The ruined town, within which the modern Chinese fort is 
built, ‘rests on a great rocky crag and is backed by the river 
Sita’ (i.¢., the Taghdumbash branch of the Yarkand River), 
on the East, exactly as the pilgrims describe it. 

A line of massive but crumbling stone walls crowns the edges 
of a quadrangular plateau of conglomerate cliffs, roughly one- 
third of a mile in length on each of its faces. A small portion 
of the area thus enclosed, on the east side facing the river, is 
occupied by the Chinese fort. Its high and carefully plastered 


CHAP. V.] RUINS OF TASHKURGHAN 73 


walls of sun-dried bricks stand undoubtedly on far more 
ancient foundations. Outside them now all is silence and 
desolation. The rubble-built dwellings, whose ruins fill part 
of the area, were tenanted as long as the insecure condition of 
the valley made it impossible for the scanty cultivators to live 
near their fields. Since peace has come to Sarikol new 
villages have sprung up near all the cultivated patches of 
land, and the stronghold has become deserted. When the 
earthquake of 1895 shook down most of the dwellings, there 
was no need to rebuild them. The walls of the town had 
already suffered by earlier earthquakes, and show in many 
places wide gaps as if they had been breached. Rebuilt 
undoubtedly again and again after successive periods of 
neglect, and always of unhewn stone, they cannot afford any 
distinct criterion of age. But the high mounds of débris over 
which the extant wails rise, in some places to a height of over 
25 feet, show plainly that these fortifications mark the lines 
of far more ancient ones. 

In order to prove my identification of these and other old 
remains, such as that of a ruined Stupa, just beyond the north 
wall, an exact survey of the site was essential. To make it 
required some diplomatic caution, as the Chinese commandant 
or his subordinates might easily have mistaken its object. 
M. Sher Muhammad’s local experience obviated any trouble 
on this score. After I had gone over the site with the 
Sub-Surveyor in an apparently casual fashion, we waited 
with the surveying until the hours after midday, when the 
whole garrison is wont to take its siesta. When the work 
continued beyond this safe period, the clever diplomatist 
went to see the Amban and so skilfully occupied his attention 
with various representations concerning my journey that he 
and his underlings had no time to grow suspicious about the 
work around their stronghold. 

What I saw of the Celestial soldiery quartered at this 
frontier station, showed them as peaceful gardeners or harm- 


1G: IN SARIKOL [CHAP. Vv. 


less idlers. One or two of the soldiers, clad in blue cotton 
fabrics, were loitering about my camp to satisfy their curiosity. 
Neither Persian, Turki, nor Wakhi could draw any conversa- 
tion from them. According to the Munshi’s statement 
scarcely any of the men, who have now passed close upon eight 
years in the district, have even an elementary knowledge of 
the language spoken around them. Considering that the 
same observation holds good of the few officials, and that the 
military force at their disposal is really insignificant, the order 
maintained by the Chinese administration appeared truly 
admirable. The success may largely be due to the wise 
arrangement by which all local affairs are left in the hands of 
local chiefs and headmen. Taxation in these frontier districts 
is very light, and as the Chinese are anything but exacting 
masters the people seemed perfectly contented. Facts like 
these make one appreciate the power which an ancient culture 
and the political wisdom resulting from many centuries’ 
experience give to the Chinese administration even in these 
days of apparent political dissolution. 

The Amban had just returned from leave in Kashgar in a 
somewhat ailing condition, and as it seemed doubtful whether 
he would be able to make the return call demanded by 
etiquette during the short time available, I had by the Munshi’s 
advice to forego my intended visit, however much I should 
have liked to profit by the first opportunity to see something 
of the representatives of the Imperial power. All the local 
dignitaries, with Karim Beg, the chief of Sarikol, at their 
head, came, however, to pay their respects, and with M. Sher 
Muhammad’s assistance the little Durbar in my ‘ Kirgha’ or 
Yurt proved quite a success. The Begs told much that 
helped me to understand the former condition of Sarikol and 
the curiously mixed aspect of its population. Among the 
better-class people it seems difficult to trace any whose families 
are indigenous to the soil. Some are descended from Wakhi 
immigrants ; a few from Chitrali and Kanjuti refugees ; more 


CHAP. V.] PEOPLE OF SARIKOL 75 


numerous are those who have come from Shighnan. — It 
seems that Sarikol, exposed to inroads from all sides, has been 
a kind of happy hunting ground for adventurous spirits of the 
neighbouring tracts who for one reason or the other found 
their own valleys too hot for them. This curious mixture is 
reflected in the polyglot faculties of the people, who seem all 
more or less familiar with Sarikoli, closely akin to Wakhi, as 
well as with Persian and Turki. 

M. Sher Muhammad had done his best to explain that I 
was no ‘Hakim.’ All the same, the applications for 
medicines from among my visitors were numerous. I could 
in conscience do nothing for the aged relative of one of the 
Begs, whose eyesight had grown dim with his burden of years. 
Still less was there a remedy in my little medicine-case for 
the initial stage of leprosy from which the youthful son ot 
another Beg manifestly suffered. ‘‘ Tabloids ” of a sufficiently 
harmless kind had nevertheless to be prescribed, and as these 
would not be considered sufficiently efficacious without strin- 
gent orders as to diet, &c., I found myself compelled to add 
verbal prescriptions also on matters of my patient’s daily life, 
which lay quite beyond my ken. Spells, if I could have offered 
them, would undoubtedly have been still more appreciated. 

On the 10th of July I was able to continue my journey, all 
arrangements for transport and such supplies as the place 
could offer having been completed. The valley, fully 10,000 
feet. above the sea, grows only oats and pulse. Vegetables 
there were none to be had. M. Sher Muhammad, with due 
forethought of the inhospitable region before me, had all the 
hamlets ransacked for eggs, and succeeded in furnishing my 
‘chef,’ Sadak Akhun, with three score of them. This 
requisition had evidently exhausted local resources ; for before 
I started I was very politely, and with many excuses, asked 
to favour the Amban with half a dozen of these precious eggs, 
as they were urgently wanted for making up a medicine! Of 
course, I felt happy to oblige that dignitary. 


76 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V. 


My route took me first for about three miles down the 
left bank of the river to the fortified village of Tiznaf. 
There my attention was attracted by a large cemetery with a 
number of mud-built domes (Gumbaz), of which the photo- 
graph reproduced here gives a view. A short distance further 
down the Taghdumbash River turns to the east and enters 


IN THE CEMETERY OF TIZNAF. 


the narrow gorge of Shindah, by which it has forced its way 
through the meridional range. All the mountains around 
looked bleak and bare of vegetation, forming a striking con- 
trast to the green fields and meadows of the riverine flat. 

The winter route along the Tagharma-su, which joins the 
Taghdumbash River from the west slopes of Muztagh-Ata, was 
closed by the depth of the water. So we had to turn off from 


CHAP. V. | PLAIN OF TAGHARMA ih 


Tiznaf to the North-West, and make for a low pass over the spur 
which descends in the angle formed by the two rivers. From 
the top of the Shush or Kum-Dawan (‘‘the Sandy Pass”), 
though it scarcely exceeds 12,000 feet in height, there opened 
an extensive view over the Tashkurghan Valley southwards. 
The distant snowy peaks, half-enveloped in clouds, which rose 
behind it in the South, were the last glimpse I had of the 
border of India. The view to the North was still more exten- 
sive. The great mass of Muztagh-Ata, with its mantle of ice, 
rose up clearly from the broad valleys which encircle its base 
on the west and south. Imposing as the great mountain 
looks from its mass and its crown of glaciers, it did not seem 
to me from this distance to equal in grandeur and picturesque 
form those mountain giants of the Himalaya I had seen, 
Nangaparbat, Mount Godwin Austen (‘‘ K.2”’), Rakiposhi, still 
less Kinchanjanga. The fact that the relative elevation of 
the highest dome of Muztagh-Ata above the broad, undulating 
plain of Tagharma at its southern foot is only about 14,000 
feet, largely accounts for this;. equally, perhaps, also the 
absence of boldness in its form, and the great height of the 
permanent snow-line which towards the south does not seem 
to reach down much below 17,000 feet. . 

After the world of soaring peaks, glaciers, and deep gorges, 
through which the way from India had taken me, I felt it 
difficult to believe myself still in an Alpine world in view of 
the broad, rolling plains before me and of the low-looking 
ranges which fringe them towards the Pamir. It was a 
novel type of mountain scenery that greeted me, and I 
confess it looked somewhat tame by the side of the views 
which have indelibly impressed themselves on my memory 
between Kashmir and the Taghdumbash. A descent of 
about one thousand feet brought me to the irrigated fields of 
Tagharma, which were clothed in the fresh green of young 
shoots of oats and barley. Without raising one’s eyes to 
Muztagh-Ata I might have thought myself on the steppe of 


78 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V. 


some northern region. The felt-covered Kirghas scattered 
over the plain did not dispel this impression; the yaks 
contentedly grazing on the young grass of the meadows were 
the sole feature suggestive of the high elevation at which we 
still moved. Safsgos, where I encamped for the night, is one 
of the small Sarikoli summer settlements spread over the 
Tagharma plain. The inhabitants of the three Kirghas, as 
far as I could see them, the men and children, were all 
singularly good-looking. Milk and delicious cream were 
obtainable in plenty. 

On the morning of July 11th the air was comparatively still 
and warm, and only the highest parts of Muztagh-Ata were 
enveloped in clouds. Riding along the open grassy plain I 
enjoyed distant views, both to the East and West. In the 
latter direction the passes of Ghulan, Sarik-tash, and Berjash (or 
Berdasht), all leading across the range into Russian territory, 
came consecutively into view. Though snow-covered on the 
highest shoulders over which they pass, these routes are all 
evidently easy enough at this season. Near the small hamlet 
of Sarala, where Sarikolis carry on some cultivation, we 
passed a little Chinese post, enclosed by loopholed mud 
walls. It is intended to maintain some control over the 
small detachments of Sarikoli levies (‘ Karaulchi,’ as they 
are called) which guard the approaches from the Russian side. 

After Sarala cultivation ceased, and the irrigated grassy 
ground became more and more cut up by patches of sandy 
soil scantily covered with hardy herbs. The few Yirts we 
now passed were tenanted by squalid-looking but jovial 
Kirghiz herdsmen. After Kukyar the route enters a broad 
stony nullah, enclosed Kast and West by low walls of con- 
glomerate, which looked like remains of ancient moraines. 
Above them to the east towered the snow-capped heights 
of a great spur known as Karakorum, which projects from 
Muztagh-Ata southwards. By noon a strong wind began to 
blow down from the north, and I was glad to reach the little 


CHAP. V. | KIRGHIZ HERDSMEN 79 


Kirghiz settlement of Ghujak, which offered a suitable place 
for camping. The wind brought light rain soon after the 
tents were pitched, and as the temperature descended rapidly 
I was glad to get again into my fur coat, discarded since our 
entry into the open Sarikol Valleys. The hypsometer showed 
an elevation of about 11,600 feet. 

The next day’s march was to be a short one, and accordingly 
I utilized the morning to ascend with Ram Singh to the top 
of the steep spur of conglomerate which rose immediately to 
the East in front of the Karakorum peaks. Light clouds, 
foreboding a change in the weather, had settled everywhere 
around the higher ranges. But the view over the great 
Tagharma Valley, and far beyond it to the peaks South-East 
of Tashkurghan, was unobstructed, and the plane table work 
benefited no little by this excursion. To the North, unfortu- 
nately, Muztagh-Ata, with its glaciers, hid itself in a thick 
veil of mist and cloud. After descending again to our last 
camping-place we resumed the route to the North. A little 
beyond I passed the mouth of a narrow side valley running to 
the west, known as Khayindi. It contains a little Mazar or 
shrine much frequented by the Kirghiz who graze around 
Muztagh-Ata. A little heap of stones on the road, adorned 
with horns of Ovis Poli and the wild goat, and a few sticks 
bedecked with rags of various hues, direct the attention of 
the wayfarer to the neighbouring shrine. The bits of rag, as 
throughout the hills of northern India, mark the ex-voto 
offerings of those who have turned to the saint for help in 
sickness or some other trouble. 

A ride of a little over two hours along the gradually diminish- 
ing stream, and between gently sloping ridges of disintegrated 
rock and gravel, brought me to Kara-su. There I found a 
small post, or ‘ Karaul,’ enclosed by loopholed mud walls, and 
my servants comfortably established in the few huts built 
inside. The garrison, the last on this side subject to the 
authority of the Tashkurghan Amban, consisted at the time 


80 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V. 


of just three men. Considering that the ramparts of the post 
are commanded by the rising ground to the West within a 
hundred yards, the defensive purpose seems to have been less 
in the mind of those who built it, than the wish to secure a 
wind-sheltered corner for the garrison. Immediately to the 
South-West a series of broad, undulating downs leads up to 
the Kulma Pass, apparently the easiest of all routes which 
cross the watershed into the valley of the Aksu. A Kirghiz 
whom I met riding on a heavily-laden pony, some miles below 
Karasu, had left the Russian outpost on the other side of the 
pass that very morning. 

The meadows round Karasu were carpeted with the few 
varieties of red and white flowers which had greeted me on 
the Taghdumbash ; else, the scenery looked gloomy enough, 
for the clouds were hanging still lower than in the morning. 
The hypsometer gave the elevation as 12,100 feet. Next 
morning, the 13th of July, the temperature was not as low as 
[ expected, being 46° F. at 6.80 a.m., but the air. was full of 
mist and rain threatened. TI left the Sub-Surveyor behind to 
wait for better weather to continue his work, and marched off 
by 9a.m. The ponies seemed to have a presentiment of the 
bad time before them and gave trouble when their loads were 
being packed. One of them managed to knock off my travel- 
ling bookcase with such impetus that its internal fittings were 
rudely dislocated. Soon after marching off a violent blast 
from the pass before us brought icy rain and sleet, and, 
driving it right into our faces, made progress both slow and 
disagreeable. As far as I could see the road led between 
low, bare ridges by the side of a little brook, the head-waters 
of the Tagharma-su. As, after two hours’ marching, we were 
nearing the summit of the pass, the Ulugh-Rabat (‘‘ High 
Station ’’), the rain stopped a little, and soon it was noticeable 
that this bleak upland was not altogether untenanted. The 
shrill, whistling voices of the Himalayan marmots were heard 
all round, and more than half a dozen of these brown guardians 


cHar.v.] CHINESE AT SUBASHI 81 


of the passes, so well known to me from beyond Kashmir, 
could be seen sitting, with seeming unconcern, on the little 
mounds over their holes. 
At 11.30 a.m. I reached the pass, which seems to be only 
a slight depression in a broad transverse ridge connecting the 
Muztagh-Ata massive with the so-called Sarikoli range, the 
eastern brim of the Russian Pamirs. The pass, a little over 
14,000 feet above the sea, is marked by a stone heap, the 
traditional resting-place of some saint. Popular lore about 
mountain passes does not seem to differ much northwards of 
the great Himalayan watershed from what I know it to be on 
the other side. Heavy mist on right and left prevented a 
view of the higher ranges, but just in front to the North I 
could look down into the open, flat valley which descends to 
Subashi and the Little Karakul Lake. I had not far advanced 
on the small spur over which the path leads steeply down- 
wards, when icy-cold rain, mixed with snow, began to come 
down again. It was far heavier than before, and by the time 
I passed the first Aul (herdsmen’s camp), called Ieriky6k at 
the bottom of the hill amphitheatre, I felt nearly drenched. 
However, there was little hope of the weather getting better, 
and I therefore deeined it best to push on to Su-bashi (‘‘ Head 
of the Waters’’), the Chinese post in the valley, where better 
shelter and supplies could be expected. In the drizzling rain 
I passed some half-decayed Kirghiz graveyards and a stone- 
built Gumbaz, evidently the remains of some older structure. 
At last, by 2 p.m., the Chinese post came in view, and 
with heartfelt gratitude I greeted its shelter. Inside a 
neglected stone enclosure I found, besides a number of tumble- 
down buildings, a row of mud-built huts, representing the 
quarters of the garrison. The latter soon emerged in its full 
streneth of eight men, and their commandant, a sort of 
corporal, hospitably invited me to his state-room. It was, 
in truth, a poor enough hovel, lighted by a hole in the roof 


which, closed on account of the rain, admitted only a dim 
7 


82 IN SARIKOL [CHAP. V. 


twilight. However, it was dry and warm and it felt cheerful 
amid the felts and quaint articles of equipment which covered 
the raised sleeping platform and the walls. A fire was lit 
under the hole already mentioned, but its smoke drove me 
into the interior apartment adjoining, long before the tea was 
ready which it was to warm. Perhaps my little terrier felt 
happiest, who, shivering with cold and wet, could scarcely 
wait for the host’s good-natured invitation to bury himself in 


CHINESE GARRISON OF SUBASHI. 


the bundle of quilts marking the bed in one corner of the 
platform. That he met there a little pet cat without picking 
a quarrel with it was the surest proof of his usual temper 
having softened under the influence of exposure. 

Whether it was the hospitable reception they gave me or 
their neat look and get-up, the little Chinese garrison made 
by no means a bad impression on me. The men were mostly 
big, well-set fellows, talking Turki more or less fluently, and 
seemed intelligent enough. When the rain stopped they 


CHAP. V.] ARRIVAL AT KARAKUL 83 


turned out to be photographed in their parade dress—blue 
velvet trousers, red cloth tunics, with Chinese letters in black 
velvet sewn on them, and neat black felt boots. All these 
articles were in good order, less so their Enfield carbines 
bearing the ‘‘ Tower”? mark. In the meantime the news of 
my arrival had been sent on to Karm Shah Beg, the chief of 
the Kirghiz herdsmen in the valley North of the Ulugh-Rabat, 
who duly came to weleome me. As the rain had stopped I 
moved my baggage down two miles from the post of Subashi 
to where his Kirghas stood. One of them was readily vacated 
for the accommodation of my servants, while a short break in 
the rain sufficed for pitching my tent on a dry, sandy spot by 
the side of one of the numerous branches by which the stream 
of the Subashi Valley finds its way down to the Karakul Lake. 
The glittering surface of the latter, one and a half miles 
further North, could just be seen from my camp. 


MUZTAGH-ATA PEAKS SEEN FROM ABOVE YAMBULAK VALLEY. 


CHAPTER VI 
ON MUZTAGH-ATA 


Tue 14th of July brought no change in the weather, and was 
by. necessity a day of repose. I used it to collect information 
as to my intended excursion up the western slopes of Muztagh- 
Ata and to pay off the Sarikolis who had so far supplied my 
transport. Previously, however, I took the opportunity of 
effecting anthropometric measurements on them. After Shams 
Beg, the Yiiz-bashi (‘‘ Head of a Hundred ”’), who had escorted 
me from Tashkurghan, had set the example, they readily sub- 
mitted to the various operations, each victim in turn affording 
amusement to his companions. 

In the afternoon the rain grew less, and I rode out with 
Karm Shah Beg to pay a short visit to the Little Kara-kul and 
the neighbouring tarns of Basik-kul. The detailed descriptions 
of Dr. Sven Hedin, who studied these little lakes for weeks 
and with loving interest, have made the readers: of his work 
fully familiar with all aspects of the neighbourhood. Riding 
round the West shore of Karakul I had a full view of the 


erand moraine which borders the lower edge of the lake and 
84 


CHAP. VI.| LITTLE KARAKUL LAKE 85 


a 


originally caused its formation. Above it only a mass of 
cloud indicated the high range which closes the valley to the 
North-East. The bleakness of the hills which rise on the 
West to a height of about four or five thousand feet above 
the lake and the low mounds of old moraines stretching along 
the shore, under the grey sky gave a desolate, sombre look 
to the little lake. As the glaciers of Muztagh-Ata kept 
wholly invisible, this impression was not relieved by the 
grandeur of the more distant surroundings. Mournful, too, 
looked the still smaller Basikkul basins and wild the confusion 
of ice-ground mounds of rock and detritus which ancient 
moraines have left in the narrow space between them. It 
was evident that the icy splendour of the great range east- 
wards is required to give to this group of little lakes its true 
Alpine beauty. 

I returned by the East shore of Karakul, past the little bay 
where Dr. Sven Hedin’s camp had been pitched. Considering 
how long he stopped in the neighbourhood, and how closely 
acquainted he became with the Kirghiz then encamped there, 
I was surprised how little my guides could tell me of this 
distinguished visitor. But the nomadic ways of the Kirghiz 
fully explain this scant recollection. The families then 
grazing around Muztagh-Ata have wandered elsewhere. 
Togdasin Beg, Dr. Hedin’s friend, has since died far 
away on the Russian Pamir, and the other companions of 
his excursions in these mountains seem also to have scattered 
to other grazing-grounds. It was instructive evidence how 
little local tradition can be expected among the wandering 
tribes that frequent these valleys. The path back to camp 
took me along the cliffs which run down into the lake from 
Kara-kir (‘‘ Black Ridge’), a bleak height of dark rock 
rising immediately to the Kast. of it. As soon as camp was 
reached at six o'clock the rain began to pour heavily again. 
It plainly meant snow in the higher region and consequent 
delay in my excursions. My diary entries for July 15th, 


86 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI. 


which I here transcribe, show that I had not been mistaken 
in my apprehension. 

“Tt rained and snowed through the whole night, and mist 
and grey, drizzling rain covered what little I could see of the 
valley when I got up. There was nothing for it but to sit 
in the tent and write up notes and letters that were to go 
down to Tashkurghan to catch the next Dak for India and 
Europe. Karm Shah Beg came to pay his respects and to 
sit in happy disregard of time and weather under the little 
awning in front of my tent, but what I could elicit from him 
as to the arrangements for my further journey was far from 
cheerful. It was easy to notice that the want of instructions 
from the Chinese at Bulunkul was sorely disturbing his 
peace of mind. In a tone intended to convey a sense of 
mystery and secret devotion, he assured me that he was 
ready to render any service—if it were not for the distrustful 
Chinese. To give me yaks and men for my intended visit to 
the Yambulak Glacier and the slopes of Muztagh was a thing 
he could do in safety. But to supply animals for a move to 
Kashgar might bring down upon him the wrath of the Amban. 
Eyen to send a few yaks to my last camp at Karasu for the 
baggage of the Sub-Surveyor, who was to join me, seemed an 
act of grave risk. The Beg’s faltering excuses gave me a good 
idea of how well the Chinese manage to keep their roving 
Kirghiz in hand, but equally little hope of the help I needed 
for my immediate movements. I accordingly sent the 
Sarikoli Beg, who had come with me from Tashkurghan, back 
to Karasu with orders to provide there locally for the transport 
needed by Ram Singh. At the same time I got Karm Shah 
Beg to despatch a messenger to Bulunkul who was to show to 
the Amban the local passport issued to me by his Tashkurghan 
colleague and to bring back orders for my Kirghiz host. 

‘‘Tn the afternoon the clouds lifted a little and showed the 
mountain slopes down to a few hundred feet above the level 
of the valley clad in fresh snow. No encouraging prospect 


CHAP, VI.] KIRGHIZ HOSPITALITY 87 


for my Muztagh-Ata excursion, which if to be made at all 
must be made within the next few days! I used the short 
interval when the rain stopped in the evening for a visit to 
the Beg’s Yurt. He seemed to appreciate the compliment, 
~and whatever doubts he may feel as to the results of any 
assistance he may render me, they did not interfere with a 
display of cordial hospitality. In the middle of the Yiut a 
big cauldron (‘ Kazan’) of milk was boiling over the fire. 
One of the Beg’s wives, no longer young, but of a pleasing 
expression and cleanly dressed, was attending to the fire of 
dwarf juniper (‘'Teresken ’). 

“While the dish was getting ready, I had time to look 
about and to examine the homestead. Comfortable it looked 
in contrast to the misty, grey plain outside. The wicker- 
work sides and the spherical top of the Yiirt are covered with 
coloured felts, which are held in position by broad bands of 
neatly-embroidered wool. All round the foot of the circular 
wall lie bundles of felt rugs and bags of spare clothes, evidently 
stored for a more rigorous season. A screen of reeds, covered 
with woollen thread worked in delicate colours and bold but 
pleasing pattern, separated a little segment of the Yiirt ap- 
parently reserved for the lady of the house, who again and 
again dived into it, to return with cups and other more precious 
implements. The floor all round, except in the centre where 
the fire blazed, was covered with felts and thick rugs made of 
yak’s hair; for my special accommodation a gay-coloured 
Andijan carpet was spread on one side. The warm milk, 
which was offered from the cauldron by the presiding matron, 
tasted sweet and rich. I had it presented in a large Chinese 
cup, while the rest of the company, which comprised over a 
dozen of the Beg’s male relatives and neighbours, helped 
themselves from a number of bowls in wood and iron. Milk 
is a staple article of food with the Kirghiz, and the healthy 
look of the men around me, young and old, showed how well 
it agrees with them. 


88 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI. 


‘Towards the end of my visit Karm Shah Beg 
produced a big sheep that I was to accept as a token of 
hospitality and goodwill. I should gladly have taken a 
smaller one, since for weeks past I had occasion to notice 
that the sheep which my men selected for purchase were as 
distinguished for toughness as for size. Karm Shah Beg, 
however, had different notions on this point, and was not to 
be denied. So I consoled myself with the thought that at 
least there would be satisfaction among my men. The 
Kirghiz are a matter-of-fact people, with a keen eye for 
money. Hence I did not fail to assure my host that his 
present would be returned by more than its equivalent in 
value before I left the valley. 

‘Late in the evening, as I was comfortably settled in my 
tent and busy writing, Karm Shah Beg turned up with a 
triumphant mien to announce the arrival of a Chinese officer 
from Bulunkul who had brought orders to supply me with 
transport. It was clear that a great load had been taken 
from the Beg’s mind. Glad as I was for this early settlement 
of the question, I thought it right to treat the news as a mere 
matter of course. I could not have expected it otherwise ! 
Karm Shah Beg was accordingly told to keep his Chinaman 
and the message he was to deliver until I should find it 
convenient to receive them on the morrow.” 

The night brought at last a change in the weather, and 
when on the morning of the 16th the Beg turned up with the 
Amban’s messenger and the commandant of the Subashi post, 
I could receive them in the open. I had tea passed round in 
cups and bowls which my servants procured—I do not know 
from where—and then received the assurance that whichever 
way I should choose for my journey to Kashgar, transport 
would be forthcoming. There seemed little hope of the 
shortest route down the valley, by the Gez defile, being 
available ; for the river, swollen by the melting shows, was 


said to have carried away one if not two bridges, which could 


cHaP.-v1.] A HITCH ABOUT TRANSPORT 89 


scarcely be repaired before the autumn: But there is another, 
if more difficult, route round by the northern spurs of Muztagh- 
Ata and over the Karatash Pass, and though this was repre- 
sented as nearly blocked by snow, I made it clear that if the 
Amban and his people wished to get rid of me, it would have 
to be by either of the above two routes. On both of them 


ICY RANGE, WITH SARGULUK PEAK, TO NORTH-EAST OF KARAKUL LAKE. 


there was surveying work to be done, which explains my 
insistence. 

When I had finally dismissed my visitors with a clear notion 
of what I expected from them, I set out for the Karakir Hill, 
east of the lake, which by its central position promised to be 
a good station for work with my photo-theodolite. The rain 
had stopped during the night, but the clouds were still hang- 
ing around the peaks, and icy gusts of wind were shifting them 


90 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI. 


continually. The yaks carried me and my instruments easily 
enough to the long ridge which crowns the hill and is seen 
in the foreground of the view reproduced on p. 89; but it was 
only after a long wait, made trying by the cold wind which 
passed through all my thick clothing, that the clouds lifted 
sufficiently to permit of satisfactory work. Then glacier after 
glacier emerged from the great white wall to the north and east 
formed by a succession of ice-crowned peaks, the worthy rivals 
of Muztagh-Ata; the deep valley of the Ekkibel-su, which 
drains Muztagh-Ata from the north, also lifted its veil, and by 
3 p.m. the tiring work on the wind-swept height was rewarded 
by a complete round of accurately fixed views which, I could 
hope, would prove a useful supplement and check to the plane- 
table work. That in the midst of the operation the tangent 
scale of the photo-theodolite broke, and had to be replaced 
with what primitive tools I managed to procure about my 
person, was an incident taxing what little I possess of 
mechanical skill. It was no surprise that my benumbed 
fingers, while replacing the scale, broke one of the cross-hairs 
of the camera. But this mishap was repaired too, thanks to 
the ample supply of delicate threads of hair which Mrs. W.’s 
kindness had provided in Gilgit. 

It was bitterly cold by the time I descended, and all the 
more grateful I felt for the shelter of my little tent. Its 
warmth was increased by the use of a small ‘‘ Stormont- 
Murphy Arctic Stove,” burning cakes of compressed fuel, with 
which I had provided myself from the Military Equipment 
Co., London. Thus comfortably ensconced within my tent- 
walls of 8 feet square, it was. a pleasure to work away till mid- 
night at a mail that was to carry my news to distant friends. 

On the 17th of July I awoke to a gloriously clear morning. 
Without a speck of cloud or mist the gigantic mass of 
Muztagh-Ata towered above my camp. I had counted on 
this chance for my projected visit to its higher slopes. The 
rain of the previous days had interfered with the Sub-Surveyor’s 


‘TOMVUVM UMVI JO HLNOS dWvO WOU 


NOUS SMVAd 


VLIV-HOVIZOW 


92 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI. 


work, and while he was making up for the delay I could effect 
my excursion without having to accuse myself of any waste of 
time. I had soon separated the outfit most needed for this 
tour from the rest of my bageage. The ten yaks that were 
to move it and to serve as mounts were also soon procured 
from among Karm Shah Beg’s herd that was grazing near the 
lake. All surplus stores and baggage not needed were to be 
left behind in charge of Mirza, my Turki servant from 
Peshawar, who, not equal to the fatigues of the long journey, 
seemed manifestly in need of rest. With him I also decided 
to leave ‘ Yolchi Beg,’ who was to be spared unnecessary 
climbs in ice and snow. He had so far borne the long marches 
wonderfully well, and had lost none of his vivacity and high 
spirits. . 

It was midday by the time I moved off, accompanied by 
Sadak Akhun, my Kashgar servant, and the three followers 
from Hunza and Punyal, who were now to have a chance of 
showing what they were worth on the mountain-side. The 
air was delightfully still and warm, and as we rode along the 
rich grazing land at the bottom of the valley, the fragrance of 
the flowers and herbs was most perceptible. Passing the 
Subashi post, which now in full sunshine looked far more 
dilapidated than when it first offered me its shelter, we turned 
round the foot of the great spur of Shamalda into the valley 
leading towards the Yambulak Glacier. The latter descends 
in a westerly direction from the col connecting the two main 
peaks of Muztagh-Ata, and is flanked by mighty ridges both 
to the north and south. From Dr. Sven Hedin’s experience, 
fully detailed in his fascinating volumes, it was clear that the 
only part of the great mountain from which access might be 
gained to its higher slopes, if not to one of its summits, was 
the spur rising above the north edge of the Yambulak Glacier. 
From a height near the head of the valley, where the fine view 
reproduced at the head of this chapter lay before me, I sur- 
veyed through my small telescope this great ridge as it 


cHAP. vi.] RECONNOITRING THE GREAT PEAKS 93 


stretches up in apparently unbroken line to the northern 
summit. The corresponding ridge on the south side of the 
glacier could be seen to be coated with a huge crust of old ice, 
which, furrowed by crevasses up to the very highest summit, 
manifestly left no chance of ascent. The rocky spur which 
this mantle of ice covers, rises above the glacier in an almost 
perpendicular face of cliff several thousand feet high. The rock 
wall on the opposite, northern side of the Yambulak Glacier, 
is not only lower, but its slope is less steep and seemed less 
encrusted with ice. Further to the north the sides of the 
mountain are far more precipitous and packed with glaciers. 

My preliminary examination of the northern ridge which Dr. 
Hedin had followed in his three attempts to ascend Muztagh- 
Ata, fully bore out his description, except in one important 
particular. His ascents in 1894 had taken him along ground 
that up toa height he estimated at over 20,000 feet, was almost 
clear of snow. But now I could not fail to note even from a 
distance that snow of considerable depth covered the identical 
ridge down to a level of less than 17,000 feet. Satip Aldi, 
my Kirghiz guide, who had accompanied Dr. Hedin on 
one of his ascents, was aware of a change which the heavy 
snowfall of the last two years had brought about in the con- 
dition of this part of the mountain. It was evident that I 
could not possibly hope to reach the height to which that 
distinguished explorer’s party had ridden up on yaks, in the 
same convenient manner. 

The night from the 17th to the 18th of July was patti in 
camp near the few Yurts in the upper part of the valley which 
bears the name of Yambulak. Reckoning with the increased 
difficulties which deep snow was likely to offer, I decided to 
obtain spare yaks for myself and the men who were to accom- 
pany me. Animals broken for riding were secured after some 
delay, and it was only by 7 a.m. on the following morning 
that I was able to move off. An hour later I had reached the 
foot of the great moraine which flanks the lower portion of the 


04 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI. 


Yambulak Glacier on the north, and with it the last bit of 
fairly level ground. Leaving my baggage behind with orders 
to pitch the tents, I then rode up the steep slope of moraine 
débris and gravel to reconnoitre the ridge above. The point 
where the baggage was left lay already at an elevation of over 
15,000 feet, and the panting of the yaks as they struggled up 
over the trying slopes of loose stones and shingle showed 
plainly that these hardy animals felt the effects of the 
elevation. With their wonderful surefootedness the yaks 
combine a sluggishness of temper which at all times makes a 
ride on them a trying mode of locomotion. But I never felt 
this more than when we had to make our way over these steep 
and slippery slopes and. at the same time to drag along the 
spare yaks that were to relieve our mounts. Comparatively 
safe from sticks, the use of which alone could keep the yaks to 
an upward track, these extra animals were ever and again 
twisting themselves into the wrong place. 

More than an hour passed before we reached the lower end 
of the rocky ridge above described over which we were to 
make our way. The ground now became firmer, but with it 
too we had reached the line of snow. It lay thin at first and 
did not hamper our progress. But after half a mile of ascent 
along the crest it became deeper, and at an elevation of 
about 16,500 feet practically forced us to dismount. It was 
half-past ten by this time, and the clouds which seemed thin 
and fleecy in the early morning were now gathering in heavier 
masses above us. The point to which we had been able to 
force our yaks seemed the last where we could pitch a camp. 
The snow which covered the top of the ridge had melted on 
the slope which descended to the glacier several hundred feet 
below. The slope was not too steep for tents, but seemed 
otherwise to offer little advantage. Far above the region 
where even yaks could secure food, the spot was yet decidedly 
too low to serve as a convenient starting-point for a long climb 
on the following day. 


CHAP. VI. | PRELIMINARY CLIMB 95 


Considering the height above us, the selection of a suitable 
spot for a camp seemed all-important. From where the yaks 
had brought us nothing was to be seen but a broad slope of 
snow fringed on its southern edge by precipitous cliffs falling 
towards the glacier. In order to make sure of the chances 
for camping higher up I despatched the two Hunza levies on 
a reconnaissance. They were to examine the conditions of the 
snow, and to look out for some shelter in the rocks which 
might enable us to pass a night at a greater elevation, 
eventually without tents. I myself remained behind to use 
the comparatively clear weather for work with the photo- 
theodolite. The clouds that were gathering and the high 
wind that sprang up were a warning not to lose time. 

The view which the place of my halt offered, and part of 
which is shown by the photograph reproduced on p. 96, was 
grand indeed. It comprised to the west range after range of 
the Pamirs, from the distant peaks of Wakhan far away to the 
Alai mountains. The mountains lining the valley below me 
on the west seemed nowhere higher than my place of observa- 
tion, for which the hypsometer reading indicated 16,820 feet. 
From the same point splendid views were obtained up and 
down the Yambulak Glacier. Compressed between mighty 
walls of rock the stream of ice seemed in a state of petrified 
convulsion. From its highest point where its firn filled the 
space between the twin peaks of Muztagh-Ata down to the 
opening of its rock-bound gorge, the glacier displayed a 
bewildering maze of huge crevasses. Their greenish depths 
contrasted vividly with the spotless white of the snow-crust 
that covered the surface of the ice. Opposite to us rose the 
almost perpendicular wall of rock which faces the great ridge 
ascending straight to the southern and highest peak of 
Muztagh. Above this rock-wall there showed the thick ice 
of the glacier-mantle covering that side of the mountain. 

Though the sun was hidden only for short periods by light 
clouds, it felt cold enough in the strong breeze. So it took 


“SCUYMISAM DONIMOOT YUAIOVID MVTOGNVA AAODY WOWT MATA 


96 


CHAP. vi.] RECONNAISSANCE OF HUNZA GUIDES 97 


time to work the delicate apparatus of the photo-theodolite. 
The two Kirghiz who had come up with us in charge of the 
yaks had already complained of headache, and by the time 
I completed my work succumbed to mountain sickness in that 
most drastic form affecting the digestive organs. To get from 
them the needed topographical information was for the time 
quite impossible. I was watching the snow-covered ridge by 
which my Hunza followers had ascended, with some anxiety 
as the day wore on, when at last by 5 p.m. they returned. 
Hardy and born climbers as they are, both Wali Muhammad 
and Ghun looked thoroughly exhausted. They reported that 
they had climbed in deep snow shoulder after shoulder of the 
great ridge above until they were stopped by a precipice 
of sheer rocks descending to a side glacier which separates 
the ridge they followed from the main mass of the northern 
peak. 

Their account confirmed the doubt which the observation 
made on the preceding day had left in me as to the con- 
tinuity of the spur apparently leading to the summit. High 
up, at an altitude approximately estimated at 22,000 feet, I 
had noticed what looked like crevassed masses of ice pro- 
truding to the north from below one of the buttresses of the 
ridge. From the description of my men I was forced to con- 
clude that this ice was in reality the end of a transverse 
glacier hidden from view by the ridge on which we stood. 
Both men described a descent over the cliffs down into the 
glacier-filled gorge as wholly impracticable, and the ascent on 
the opposite face giving access to the summit as of equal 
difficulty. They complained bitterly of the cold they had 
experienced in the higher part of their ascent and of the 
difficulty of breathing. Though they had followed closely the 
line of the cliffs overlooking the Yambulak glacier, they had 
found no possible place of shelter among the rocks nor even a 
spot where a small tent could be pitched. Everywhere the 
snow was too deep and tolerably level space wholly wanting. 

8 


98 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI. 


This report showed clearly the limits which existing conditions 
imposed on any attempt at ascending Muztagh-Ata from this 
side. I realised that without the possibility of camping higher 
up for one night all that could be aimed at was to penetrate 
the gorge which had stopped my men. The discovery of this 
formidable obstacle was in itself an interesting fact; for Dr. 
Sven Hedin, who in 1894 had ridden on yaks to a height 
estimated at over 20,000 feet, seemed to have remained 
wholly unaware of its existence. At the same time the 
report showed that the ascent up to that point was only a 
question of endurance and fair weather. I accordingly 
determined to use the chance of the next day keeping clear 
for an ascent by the track which my Hunza men had 
followed. 

This chance seemed doubtful indeed, for clouds settled 
around the summits, and violent gusts of wind made us glad 
to seek the shelter of the tents below. I found them pitched 
by the side of the great moraine wall and Ram Singh duly 
arrived from Karasu. The sky was cloudy when I turned in, 
and when I rose on the 19th at 3.80 a.m. there was every 
indication of a storm. It did not take long before the snow, 
driven by a hard gale, came down. Wrapped in furs I was 
sorrowfully watching this atmospheric interference with my 
plans when by 6 a.m. the sky began rapidly to clear. I saw 
that it had been only one of those short-lived gales which, 
according to Dr. Hedin’s testimony, almost daily visit 
one or other face of the great mountain. The yaks were 
kept ready, and when the sun broke through, a little before 
7 a.m., I gave the order to start. Instead of the Kirghiz 
who had proved so useless on the mountain-side, only my 
Hunza men and Ajab Khan, the Punyali orderly, were to 
accompany me and the Sub-Surveyor. The latter’s instru- 
ments were to be carried as far as practicable by honest Hai 
Bai, a Turki ‘ Kirakash’ (pony-man) from Kokyar, who had 
accompanied Captain Deasy’s caravan to Ladak and Kashmir, 


CHAP. v1.]| CLIMB ALONG YAMBULAK GLACIER = 99 


and who, anxious to return homewards after a winter’s rest, 
had attached himself to my camp at Srinagar. 

This time we were not encumbered by spare yaks for 
which no use could be found, and a little over an hour from 
the time of the start saw us at the point I had reached 
the day before. The weather kept clear though there was 
much wind. The yaks toiled on through the snow, which 
gradually grew deeper, but their progress was slow, and the 
task of keeping them ahead trying for the riders. More 
and more frequently we had to dismount and drag the 
stubborn animals out of the deep snowdrifts into which they 
had plunged. At last, when an hour’s toil had advanced us 
only some 500 feet above the previous day’s station, it 
became necessary to leave the yaks behind. The snow by 
this time had increased to an average of five feet in depth, and 
in many places where some projection of the ridge had 
favoured the formation of drifts, our alpenstocks altogether 
failed to strike the rock. The surface snow was crisp and 
granular, hence so easily shifted by the wind that in most 
places the footprints left by the men on their ascent the day 
before could barely be distinguished. The snow along the 
edge of the rock-wall, which we were careful to follow, seemed 
at this altitude to have accumulated only during recent winters. 
Hence it had scarcely yet had time to be compressed by its 
own weight into ice ; and the glittering snow sheet over which 
we were ascending rested firmly on the rock. Against slips 
of snow and avalanches we were thus safe enough, while 
from the opposite side of the glacier where the southern wall 
of rock was topped by a thick layer of ice, little avalanches 
would glide down more and more frequently as the day 
wore on. 
 Itwas not easy work to ascend in the soft snow, where we 
continually sank in for a couple of feet, and where a slight 
deviation from the track of the front man would land one up 
to the waist. Though the high elevation we gradually 


100 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI. 


attained caused me neither headache nor any other symptoms 
of mountain sickness, yet the rarity of the air necessarily 
imposed slow progress and frequent though short halts. The 
wind grew stronger as the day advanced, and brought passing 
showers of snow. Yet more troublesome was the snow which 
the force of the wind swept up at times from the slope before 
us. Shortly before midday I reached a point where a few 
dry rocks at the edge of the spur protruded from the snow. 
They offered a convenient spot for a halt and refreshment. 
Immediately below the nearly perpendicular cliffs there 
stretched the contorted icy surface of the Yambulak Glacier. 
Contrary to my expectation, the altitude of close on 19,000 feet 
which we must have reached by this time interfered in no 
way with my appetite. 

After another short snow squall had passed we resumed our 
climb, but the Sub-Surveyor and Ajab Khan began to complain 
of headache and general lassitude. Bichlorate of potash 
tabloids, with which after Dr. Bellew’s advice I had provided 
myself, proved of little avail, and by 1.80 p.m. Ram Singh 
had to remain behind. The wind had by this time driven 
away all clouds that hung over the ranges west and north, 
and he was thus able to check his plane-table work by rays to 
a number of distant peaks previously sighted or triangulated. 
Twenty minutes later Ajab Khan, skilled mountaineer as he 
is, fell out and received permission to descend. There 
remained now Wali Muhammad and Ghun, my two Hunza 
levies, and they without a word of complaint steadily plodded 
on with me. The snow became still deeper, and the mist 
that settled on the peaks above us showed clearly that a 
further ascent would offer no chance of a close survey of 
the summits. A change in the weather seemed also to 
threaten, and after due deliberation I fixed upon the buttress 
of the ridge just before me as the final object of the climb. 
By 2.30 p.m. I had reached its top and settled down by the 
side of the precipitous rock wall descending to the glacier. 


CHAP. VI. | HIGHEST POINT REACHED 101 


In the piercing wind it was not easy to boil the water for 
the hypsometer. By scooping a hole in the snow, however, 
sufficient shelter was at last secured, and repeated careful 
readings of the thermometer gave a mean of 177.8° Fahr. as 
the boiling-point. Taking into calculation the temperature 
of the air, which was 33° Fahr., this corresponds to an eleva- 
tion of almost exactly 20,000 feet. Our bodily condition would 
have allowed a further climb, though I as well as my Hunza 
followers felt the effect of our six hours’ ascent through the 
snow. But neither the state of the weather nor the remaining 
daylight justified the hope that we could reach this day the 
end of the spur reconnoitred on the previous day. I 
accordingly decided to descend and to let a fresh attempt at 
reaching that point depend on the chance of the weather 
improving on the next day. The soft snow rendered even the 
descent by the route we had come a slow and arduous affair ; 
but the grand view which lay before me amply compensated 
for the delay. To the west the clouds had lifted completely, 
and the multiplicity of the ranges over which my gaze 
travelled was the best demonstration of the height we 
were at. 

Straight in front, where the view must have extended prac- 
tically across the whole breadth of the Pamir region, there 
were no notable landmarks to attract attention. But this 
seemingly endless succession of valleys and ranges was perhaps 
best calculated to impress me with a sense of the vastness of 
the “ Roof of the World.” To the south-west there glittered 
white pinnacles of bolder shape far away on the horizon, and 
in them I thought I could recognise the mountain-giants that 
guard the approach to the Indus Valley. They had worthy 
rivals to the north in some towering masses of ice and snow, 
which from a reference to the map I could not fail to identify 
with Mount Kaufmann and other great peaks of the Trans- 
Alai range. Their highest points were shrouded in fleecy 
clouds. 


102 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI. 


The grand spectacle which made me stop again and again, 
heedless of the cold and wind, also impressed my companions, 
though from another point of view. Here was a vast region 
full of rich grazing grounds, greater than the dwellers of the 
narrow valleys of Hunza could ever imagine. , It was not 
difficult to guess what were the prominent thoughts that 
passed through my Kanjutis’ minds, and a few sympathetic 
hints soon brought them to their tongues. What a vast field 
for raids and conquest lay there before the hardy, brave hill- 
men of Hunza! The old freebooting spirit broke forth again 
in their talk, together with their contempt for the meek 
Kirghiz, those willing servants of whoever lets them graze in 
peace. Wali Muhammad revelled in recollections handed 
down by his father how the men of Hunza had raided the 
rich flocks of Tagharma, to the very foot of the great mountain 
on which we stood. But now the ‘ Sirkar’ has made its 
will felt, and no Kanjuti dare disturb the peaceful dwellers in 
these valleys. I could not cheer my plucky guides with 
promises of a return to those happy days, but I must own to 
sympathy with their views in my innermost heart. Were it 
not for the great powers that keep watch from south to north, 
there is no doubt that little Hunza would with ease sweep 
across all the valleys from the Oxus to the Kashgar border. 

When by 6 p.m. we had descended to that portion of the 
ridge where the snow had left some patches of bare rock, I 
was cheered to find the tents pitched on the steep declivities 
towards the glacier. The place was the best that could be 
had for the purpose, but the angle of the slope was anything 
but adapted for a tent. When I retired to its shelter, I felt 
as if it were a cabin on board a ship rolling badly. With 
some trouble the nearest approach to a horizontal position 
was secured for the camp-bed, and as it was the only thing on 
which it was possible to sit or lie in comfort, I soon succumbed 
to its attraction. Before, however, I finally got to rest the 
patients had to be attended to. Ram Singh and Ajab Khan, 


CHAP, VI. | FREEBOOTING VISIONS 103 


huddled up in their little tent, still complained of splitting 
headache and nausea. Outside, undismayed by cold and 
wind, my hardy Hunza men were feasting in great glee on the 
big mutton-legs which had been assigned for their refresh- 
ment. Their cheery talk, alas! unintelligible to me, was 
still in my ears when I fell asleep after a frugal dinner. Was 
it of the pluck and prowess of their little race that they 
chatted, or of the happy hunting- grounds for slaves and sheep 
which the Pamirs had so long offered to it ? 

The night brought violent gusts of wind and several light 
falls of snow. The noise of the avalanches falling over the 
cliffs on the south side of the Yambulak Glacier woke me at 
frequent intervals. It was a comfort to think that there was 
no danger of that kind to fear on the ridge we occupied. 
When I woke up at 6 a.m. there was fresh snow to the depth 
of two inches covering the ground. The sky was still cloudy. 
There was nothing for it but to wait in patience for a change 
in the weather. But the change would not come, and as the 
temperature still kept at freezing-point we felt badly the 
exposed position of the camp. At last all hope of an ascent 
that day had to be abandoned, and as to wait for better weather 
would have meant loss of more time than I could afford, I had 
by midday reluctantly to give the order for the move to a less 
inclement region. 

On the evening of the 20th of July I camped once more by 
the side of the Kirghas in the Yambulak Jilea. On the 
following day Ram Singh and myself ascended the high side 
spur, called Shamalda, which descends from Muztagh-Ata 
northwards of the Kampar-Kishlak Glacier, for survey work. 
Icy blasts of wind blew in turn from different directions, and 
kept now one and now the other side of the mountain 
shrouded in clouds and mist. Work with the photo-theodolite 
was trying under such conditions, yet by using the favourable 
moments views were secured of the valleys and ranges 
opposite, which from this height—14,570 feet above the sea 


104 ON MUZTAGH-ATA [CHAP. VI. 


showed clear and sharp, as if on a relievo map spread 
before me. The triangulation, too, was extended to the 
ereat peaks north-east of Lake Karakul. After long and 
trying hours on the wind-swept bleak ridge I was glad to 
hurry down to my camp, which in the meantime had been 
moved again to its old place south of the lake. To my 
pleasant surprise there awaited me a troop of ‘ Kirakash ’ 
men with ten ponies, whom Mr. Macartney, most thoughtfully 
anticipating my need of fresh transport, had sent from 
Kashgar to meet me. Through them there came, to my 


ICY RANGE WITH PEAKS ABOVE KONGUR-DEBE AND KOKSEL GLACIERS. 


intense joy, a packet of home letters which had reached 
Kashgar from Europe by the Russian post via Samarkand. 
The latest bore the date of the 24th of June, a proof how 
near the railway has brought even the slopes of Muztagh- 
Ata. 

On the 22nd of July the weather cleared very suddenly, 
and the day of rest and quiet work in camp was made doubly 
enjoyable by a perfect view of the grand mountain. Even 
the great glacier-clad range to the north-east, dubbed 
‘Kongur’’ on our maps, but locally bearing neither that 
nor any other general name, lifted for an hour the veil of 


cHap. vi.] DESCENT TO KARAKUL LAKE 105 


clouds from its highest peaks. Those above the glaciers of 
Kongur-debe and Koksel rise, according to our triangulation, 
to elevations of 23,600 and 23,470 feet, respectively, and thus 
fairly rival Muztagh-Ata, for which 24,321 feet is the latest 
ascertained height. All the same I was glad to learn from 
the Kashgar pony-men that I should not have to force my 
way through the gap known as the Kara-tash (‘‘ Black stone”) 
Pass, which on the south separates that range from the 
‘Rather of Ice Mountains.”” Instead of this difficult route 
the Gez gorge was reported to be available, though in the 
flooded condition of the Yamanyar River I had_ searcely 
ventured to hope for this. 


START FOR GEZ DEFILE. 


CHAPTER. VII 
THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE TO KASHGAR 


Tue morning of the 23rd of July found me ready for the start 
northwards on the way to Kashgar, while Ram Singh, with a 
small camp, was to move to the north-east to complete the 
survey up to the Karatash Pass and towards Bulunkul. He 
was then to follow me to Kashgar a week in the rear. To 
provide against possible loss of the plane-table work so far 
done, through accident or Chinese interference, I photographed 
the section of the map that Ram Singh was to keep. My 
two Hunza men and Ajab Khan were discharged to their 
homes, cheered by the prospect of returning to their own 
mountains and by the substantial rolls of rupees representing 


their pay. Before I said goodbye to Karm Shah Beg, who in 
106 


CHAP, Vit. ] TARNS OF BASIKKUL _ 107 


a handsome Bakhshish in cash had found compensation for 
the revolver he had previously coveted as a ‘‘ keepsake,” 
I had the satisfaction of seeing my Indian mail arrive from 
Sarikol. It was a big one, and brought besides welcome 
letters and papers from home and India eagerly expected 
little parcels, the result of orders I had sent to Lahore six 
weeks before from Gilgit, after the first experience had shown 
me the lacune of my equipment. | 

While the baggage marched on to Bulunkul I took the 
opportunity of completing my photo-theodolite survey from an 
isolated hill rising due west of Karakul, and about 1,500 
feet above it. The panoramic view I enjoyed from the 
height of Kok-tumshuk Hill was perfect. The lake at my 
feet littered in the changing tints of emerald and chrysoprase. | 
Just opposite on the eastern shore the telescope showed 
Ram Singh working from my former station on Karakir with 
the theodolite. To the north there lay peacefully the little 
tarns of Basikkul, deep green in colour, and in the soft clear 
light even the bleak old moraines around them, with their 
“cirques” and walls of rocky débris, looked less desolate and 
dreary. By 8 p.m. I had exposed the last plate and hurried 
down to where the limpid stream leaves Karakul. Then I 
marched along the eastern shore of the Lower Basikkul, and 
realised for the first time the charms of this pretty ‘‘ eye of 
the sea’’ as it would be called in the Carpathians. Sleepy 
it looked on the quiet summer afternoon, and inviting for 
rustic repose the grassy strip on its eastern bank. But I had 
little time to spare for such pleasures, and soon had to tear 
myself away from this newly discovered attraction. 

Beyond, vegetation soon diminished as I marched along 
the stony ‘Dasht’ that forms the bottom of the valley 
further down. The river, swelled by the great glacier stream 
known as Ekkibel-su, that joins it from the south-east, 
occupies a gradually broadening bed of rubble and boulders. 
I crossed it with some little difficulty about four miles below 


108 THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE [cnap. vi. 


Karakul, its depth there reaching 4 to 5 feet. The rest of 
the march lay alternately over stony “ alluvial fans ”’ spread- 
ing in front of the glaciers which descend from the great icy 
range eastwards, and over narrow strips of rich meadow land 
fringing here and there the steeply-cut conglomerate banks. 
The flora seemed more or less the same as about Karakul, 
but the growth and the scent of the herbs growing in these 
sheltered nooks was stronger. | 
It was close on 8 p.m. when I reached my camp pitched 
near the Chinese post of Bulunkul on the swampy piece 
of meadowland that fills a bend of the river. The military 
Amban of the place is supposed to watch the neighbouring 
passes which lead across to Rang-kul and adjoining parts 
of the Russian Pamirs. From the report brought to me 
he seemed little inclined to help me on my journey. 
Though he sent fuel and a sheep as a present, Osman 
Beg, the influential headman of the Kirghiz grazing in the 
neighbourhood, to whom I had been recommended from 
Tashkurghan, found it advisable to pay his visit by stealth 
and under the cover of darkness. Next morning the attitude 
of the Amban made itself palpably felt. Karm Shah Beg’s 
men, with their ponies, which had brought part of my 
baggage from Karakul, had disappeared during the night. 
To move on with the five Kashgar animals (the rest I had 
left for Ram Singh’s camp) was manifestly impossible. From 
the Amban, to whom I sent, came nothing but a rude reply, 
leaving it to my own choice how I should make my way 
beyond. I thought of Dr. Sven Hedin, who had met with an 
even worse reception at Bulunkul, and consoled myself with 
the conjecture that possibly the climate of the place disagrees 
with the liver of successive Chinese commandants. 
Fortunately the Amban’s  obstructiveness was purely 
passive. I found little difficulty im persuading his inter- 
preter (‘Tolmach’) that it was to his material advantage 
to supply the needful animals. He took the hint, and by 


cHaP. vi.]} OBSTRUCTION AT BULUNKUL 109 


11 a.m., by taking Dak ponies and pressing Kirghiz animals, 
the needed complement of my transport was made up. The 
pliable factotum of the Chinese ‘‘ Warden of the Passes ”’ 
was for a consideration found ready even to issue in his 
chief’s name an order for the supply of other animals at the 
Karauls further down the valley. When my little caravan 
was fairly started I could not deny myself the satisfaction of 
returning to the Amban the sheep he had sent, as a present 
that was not acceptable. The Kirghiz, in whose presence I 
sent my message, were evidently much tickled by the 
announcement. 

The weather had again become cloudy and cold, quite 
wintry in aspect. With the clouds covering the mountains 
almost to their foot the wide valley, through which the river 
beyond Bulunkul spreads in numerous broad branches, looked 
like a dreary steppe in the autumn. About five miles north 
of Bulunkul the expanse of muddy glacier water contracts 
and enters by a sudden bend to the east the long defile known 
as Gez-Darra. At its entrance we passed a lonely Karaul, 
square-walled and garrisoned by a dozen Chinese soldiers— 
scarcely tenable as a defensive work, even in the days of 
matchlocks. The rest of this day’s march lay along the 
right bank. The gorge kept narrow, and the road almost 
throughout led over old moraines and stony ‘“‘fans.”” By 
6.30 p.m. we passed the first serious impasse of the gorge 
called Janguruk. Great serrated coulisses of rugged rock, 
several thousand feet in height, descend from the main 
mountain spurs on both sides. Along the face of one of them 
the road is carried by a gallery, a true ‘ Rafik’ of Hunza 
recollection, only that the one here was well built and gave a 
roadway of at least 4 feet breadth. It was getting dark 
between the high mountain walls when this awkward part of 
the route had been passed. So we had to stop for the night’s 
camp as soon as the necessary bit of level space could be 
found by the river side. Here amidst sombre Alpine scenery, 


110 THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE §[cnap. VIL. 


with snowy heights gleaming up side gorges, I was to be 
reminded of the very different region that awaited me east- 
wards. Heavy yellowish clouds overspread the narrow bit of 
sky, visible between the mountains, and soon the tail end of 
a duststorm wafted from the eastern plains swept up the 
valley. The night, too, was warm for this elevation. 

On the morning of the 25th we had to cross to the left of 
the tossing river a little below the spot of our camp, known as 
Tlegorum. The river is compressed there by mighty rocks to 
a width of some 45 feet, and the chasm is spanned by a 
wooden bridge 6 feet broad, quite a creditable specimen, I 
thought, of Chinese engineering. The sides were protected 
by a substantial railing, and the whole painted bright yellow. 
The opposite bank for more than a mile further down was 
formed by a high and precipitous wall of rock wholly impass- 
able to man or beast. After some three miles we recrossed 
by a similar bridge to the right bank, and could have continued 
our march there with ease had it not been that the bridge 
across the swollen glacier-stream from a side-valley to the 
south had been washed away. The stream was wholly unford- 
able, and it was necessary to climb up for some three miles to 
the mouth of the huge Koksel glacier from which it issues. 
It was a trying detour, for the whole valley is blocked by 
enormous old terminal moraines. When at last the present 
end of the glacier was reached, it was with difficulty that we 
dragged up the ponies to the top of that mass of ice rising in 
a bank of at least 150 feet above the river. It was fortunately 
thickly coated with glacier mud and detritus, and in half an 
hour we had safely got the first pony across. From the 
eastern side moraine the glacier could be seen stretching 
away for miles up the valley to the slopes of high peaks which 
were enveloped in clouds. Subsequent surveying showed that 
the highest summit of this mountain mass is identical with the 
ice-clad Koksel or Sarguluk Peak (23,470 feet), which rises 
prominently at the salient angle of the great range north of 


CHAP. vil.| CROSSING KOKSEL GLACIER 111 


Muztagh-Ata, and is visible even from Kashgar, in the form 
of a great truncated cone. 

This detour had delayed us much, and it was getting late 
in the afternoon when the baggage arrived at the little Karaul 
of Gez, from which the valley takes its name. Fresh animals 
were to be taken here, but they were said not to have arrived 
as yet from their grazing-grounds. So we pitched camp 
among the fantastic conglomerate formations which line the 
river-bank. The evening brought a fresh duststorm, and 
notwithstanding the elevation—about 8,000 feet above the 
sea—it felt oppressively warm. On the morning of the 26th 
of July I awoke to hear the news that the promised ponies 
had not arrived, and that the men from Bulunkul together 
with their animals had decamped during the night. To make 
matters worse, the ‘ Karaulchis ’—Kirghiz posted at the 
Karaul for carrying the Chinese Dak 
known reason disappeared. 

I did not appreciate the prospect of being detained inde- 
finitely at so dreary and desolate a spot, and the hours of 
weary waiting sorely tried my patience. Amidst the sand 
and bare rocks the air grew almost hot as the day advanced. 
Satip Aldi, the Kirghiz I had engaged at Karakul, was de- 
spatched to the herdsmen high up the Koksel Valley, but I 
knew that assistance from that side could not come till night- 
fall. All the greater was the feeling of relief when by 2 p.m. 
a party of traders with four ponies came in sight, the first 
travellers we had met since leaving Karakul. With some 
persuasion and gentle pressure my men prevailed on the party 
to unload their animals and to help to take our baggage down 
to the next Karaul, Kaurtk-Kurehan. Heavy loads had to 
be made up, and we all had to walk—no great sacrifice, for 
the ten miles down the valley proved exceptionally easy-going. 
The scenery became less sombre as the valley broadened, and 
after returning once more to the right bank at Kok-moinak, a 
picturesque little cross-spur, I was gratified by the first view 


had also for some un- 


112 THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE [cuap. vit. 


of cultivated fields. The reception that met me at Kauruk- 
Kurghan was a cheerful contrast to our Gez experience. 
The Kirghiz Karaulchis, among them some picturesque old 
men in padded coats of wonderful hues, turned out for my 
reception in great style. All the ponies we required for the 
difficult marches of the next two days were supplied most 
readily, and the services of extra men offered to help the 
animals over the difficulties of the track. Kaurik-Kurghan 
proved a far cooler place than Gez. The evening, after a 
light shower from the east had sprinkled the ground, was 
delightful, and I felt refreshed by the scent of the thyme 
erowing profusely about my camping-place. 

The ordinary route to the plains below Kauruk-Kurghan 
runs along the bottom of the river gorge, but this is impass- 
able during the summer months owing to the flood. Then 
communication can be maintained only by the circuitous track 
through the mountains, known characteristically as Tokuz- 
Dawan, ‘‘the Nine Passes.”’ The first of these passes was 
up a steep spur a couple of miles below the Karaul. The 
hillsides were clothed with plenty of shrubs, and reminded 
me of the scenery I had seen in Buner and in Hazara, east of 
the Indus. On the top of the pass a pleasant surprise awaited 
me. Unexpectedly the path opened on a charming glen with 
trees and fertile patches of oatfields. The height was over 
9,000 feet. Kaurtik-Bel looked a veritable oasis after the 
stony barrenness of the Gez defile, and might with some 
imagination be turned into a suitable site for a cosy “ hill- 
station.” Unfortunately the glen holds practically no water. 
For a couple of miles we descended it, and then turned up a 
narrow side gorge to the north-east. 

The scenery had by this time changed considerably. All 
vegetation disappeared from the gravel-strewn bottom of the 
gorge, and the sides were formed by bare rocks of reddish- 
erey tint, worn into fantastic shapes by the influences of 
climatic extremes. At the bottom of the narrowing gorge, 


CHAP. VII. | OVER THE “NINE PASSES” 113 


cut into the rock by the action of rain and melting snows, we 
wound our way onwards, often in the welcome coolness of 
overhanging cliffs. In a little cul-de-sac of rocks there was a 
tiny stream of cool water dripping over the stones and losing 
itself below in the fine sand. Not far from it the Ularlik 
Jilga contracts to a narrow fissure, some 8 to 10 feet across, 
closed in. by unscalable crags. The large rocks which form 
the bottom are too steep to be climbed by laden animals. So 
all the baggage had to be taken off and carried by men for a 
short distance. Emerging from this gloomy fissure we had 
fresh trouble in pulling the ponies along a series of rocky 
ledges and up an exceptionally steep spur. At last the top 
of the second pass was reached, with a distant view to the 
snowy peaks south-west and a succession of bare serrated 
ridges in the foreground looking like lines of petrified waves. 
Far-advanced decomposition was plainly written on all features 
of the landscape. Winding round the highest ridges of some 
neighbouring peak, at an elevation of about 10,500 feet, we 
reached at last the head of the Khush-kishlak Valley, the 
only one in this maze of mountains which contains a per- 
manent spring, and where a longer halt is practicable. Dreary 
and miserable the place looked, which we reached after a 
descent of some three miles between bare hillsides, apparently 
sandstone. But there was the spring, fresh and clear, and 
after the long, hot climb.men and beasts were equally grateful 
for its blessing. 

The march of the 28th of July was to bring me right down 
into the plains to the large oasis of Tashmalik at the entrance 
of the Gez defile. It was a double march, and we started 
early. A slight storm had cleared the air remarkably, and 
when the top of the next pass, the Aktiken-Bel, was reached 
in the fresh morning air I was surprised by a delightfully 
distant view. On the west it extended to the great icy peaks 
which lie between Muztagh-Ata and the Gez-Darra, most 


prominent among them the glittering cone of Sarguluk. To 
9 


114 THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE §[cuap. Vi. 


the east the plains could be seen far away to the green tracts 
under irrigation round Yangi-Hissar, Opal, and Tashmalik. 
A light haze of dust that hung over the plain on the pale-blue 
horizon was all that suggested to the mind the great desert 
beyond. Immediately before me was a maze of bare rocky 
ridges. The eye revelled in the bright and wonderfully varied 
tints which they exhibited. From bluish grey to terra-cotta 
every shade of colour glistened in the full sunlight. It was a 
view which will long live in my memory for its vastness and 
fascinating variety. For a couple of hours it remained before 
my eyes as I crossed in succession the Talantik, Sarvai-Bel, 
and Topalu-Bel Passes. The valleys between them were not 
deep, and progress was easy. Then at last there was a decided 
descent into the Kizil Jilga (‘the Red Valley’’), not inappro- 
priately so-called from the reddish.brown hills that enclose it. 
A six miles’ mareh in the dry bed of the stream that in the 
spring drains the nullah, brought us at last back again to the 
bank of the Gez River. It was flowing here over a bed of 
rubble nearly a mile broad, divided into numerous channels, 
but as rapid as above. 

Only for 14 miles was there a way along the river-bank. 
Then a precipitous spur of conglomerate, which is washed at 
its foot by the current of the river, intervenes, and we had to 
wend our way again into a tortuous gorge. It felt hot in its 
still air, though the thermometer in the shade showed only 
83°F. At the end of the gorge there was an extremely steep 
ascent at an angle ot over 30°, where the ponies even with- 
out their loads had difficulty to scramble up. After crossing 
this—the Shagildik Dawan—there was once more a descent 
to the main valley. But our way there was soon blocked by 
a fresh spur, and instead of emerging on the level plain for 
which, I confess, I was by this time longing, a last great 
detour into the wild barren waste of conglomerate hills had to 
be made. One after the other of the ponies that had come 
all the way from Karakul broke down, and I was heartily glad 


cHAP. vil.] ARRIVAL IN TASHMALIK PLAIN 115 


that the forethought of our guides from Kauritk-Kurghan had 
provided spare animals to shift their loads on to. After a tiring 
ascent of close on 2,000 feet the Yamala or Kepek Pass, 
the last obstacle, was surmounted, and I hurried ahead of my 
caravan to reach Tashmalik if possible before dusk. The 
plain at the point where I struck it at last by 6.30 p.m. was a 


ASCENT OF SHAGILDIK DAWAN. 


stony waste, but pursuing my way by the side of the river I 
soon came to a canal and then to fertile irrigated lands. 
Men were still working in the fields and in all directions 
rills of water, betokening by its colour its glacier sources, 
were spreading fertility over the rich soil. It was a picture 
of life doubly impressive after the stony wilderness from 
which I had emerged. 


116 THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE [cuap. vir. 


It was getting dark when I arrived at the first houses of 
Tashmalik. Thus the oasis is called, and not ‘‘ Tashbalik ” 
‘““Tashbulak,” as, distorted by a sort of ‘‘ popular etymology,” 
its name appears in almost all maps and books except the 
records of the old Jesuit Surveyors of the eighteenth century. 
The mud-walls of the buildings and those enclosing many 
gardens looked quite imposing in the dim light. The roads 
were lined with willows and poplars. I enquired at first after 
the Beg’s house, to whom I had sent word regarding fresh 
ponies. An elderly ‘Dihkan’ (cultivator) riding along on a 
lively donkey offered to take me there. We passed miles that 
seemed to me endless between fields and gardens and little 
eroups of houses. Yet the Beg’s place was ever ahead. I 
had forgotten that in Eastern Turkestan extensive groups of 
villages or hamlets, spreading over a wide area of cultivated 
ground, bear a common name, representing in reality that of a 
little district. When, tired out by a ride and walk of nearly four- 
teen hours, I arrived at the house, I found to my annoyance 
that the Beg was away in Kashgar and that whatever arrange- 
ments were possible would have to be made at the Karaul. 
It meant riding back in the darkness for over two miles. But 
at last I reached the place, though the pony stumbled and 
nearly broke down with weariness. The baggage, too, turned 
up at last, and my tent was pitched on a field close to racks of 
fresh-cut scented ‘ Beda,’ a kind of lucerne. But it was long 
after ten o’clock before I managed to get a ‘“‘ wash” and close 
on midnight before I could sit down to a well-earned dinner. 

On the 29th of July we were up as soon as the day broke. 
The vicinity of Kashgar was an irresistible attraction to hurry 
on, and though the available information allowed me to estimate 
the distance correctly at close on fifty miles, I was anxious to 
cover it that day. There was the usual difficulty of eetting 
fresh ponies to replace those hired at Kaurtk-Kurghan, whose 
owners naturally enough would not consent to their going on 


to Kashgar. But Alia Beg, the ‘Dakchi’ in charge of the 


CHAP. VII. | THROUGH OPAL OASIS 117 


Chinese post, proved more helpful than the Beg’s people, and 
by 6 a.m. I could start with the most needful loads of baggage 
packed on a couple of post-horses. The rest of my camp was 
to follow as soon as the needed animals had been secured. I 
was glad to leave its encumbrances behind, for I knew that at 
the other end of my long march a hospitable roof was awaiting 
me. A greyish haze covered the sky and effaced all view of 
the higher hills to the west, but to the north I could dimly 
discern the low broad ridge which is fringed by the cultivated 
lands of Opal, our immediate goal. 

To reach it we had to cross the river from Gez,the Yamanyar 
as it is here called, which, notwithstanding all the water drawn 
off for irrigation, still spreads in half a dozen broad branches 
over the plain. The water was 4-5 feet deep in most of them, 
and the flow so rapid that it required careful guiding of the 
animals by special men stationed to assist at the fords, to 
effect a safe passage. After an hour I reached the other side 
of the broad river-bed, wet above the knees but without 
damage to the baggage. Then followed a delightful ride 
through the green grazing land that stretches by the side 
of the river for several miles. A little Chinese garrison 
occupies a dilapidated post at the foot of the low plateau which 
bears the lands of Opal. Outside a circular Karaul we 
managed to obtain a change of ponies, bué the gain in time 
it was intended to assure was more than compensated by the 
delay which ensued by a quarrel among the post-men. It was 
evidently the question who were to accompany me to Kashgar 
which excited the commotion. Ultimately I found the baggage 
subdivided into four small loads and a villager perched on the 
top of each laden animal. I acquiesced in an arrangement 
which seemed to solve the difficulty, and had no reason to 
regret it, for the little caravan moved gaily along and never 
stopped till I reached Kashgar. 

Opal is a conglomeration of numerous hamlets spread 
between fields and irrigated meadows. To ride along its 


118 THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE _[cHap. vi. 


lanes shaded by willows and poplars was a delightful change 
after the dreary wilderness of stone and sand we had lately 
passed through. In the fields the melons were ripening, and 
richly cultivated gardens displayed a profusion of vegetables. 
Everywhere was the welcome presence of water, irrigation cuts 
of all sizes following and intersecting the roads. The 
quantity of reddish mud deposited by these little streams. 
was a notable feature. By the side of one I made a brief 
halt to refresh myself with a modest ‘‘ Tiffin’ carried in a 
saddle-bag and some apples and plums I had bought from a 
wayside stall. It was the first fruit I had tasted for months. 

After an hour and a half we had passed through the whole 
breadth of the oasis of Opal. On the stretch of sterile sandy 
plain to be crossed eastwards I gathered my first impressions 
of the Turkestan desert. Here its look of barren desolation 
-was mitigated by tamarisks and other low scrub growing 
profusely along the now dry ravines that intersect it. To my 
surprise the temperature kept comparatively cool even after 
midday ; 93°F. in the sun, with a refreshing breeze from the 
east, was nothing to complain of. But the glare was trying 
and soon forced me to protect my eyes with goggles of neutral- 
coloured glass. As we passed one low sandy dune after the 
other the pony-men struck up singing, and their tunes, 
surprisingly melodious, brought life and a feeling of cheeriness 
into the solitude. By 8 p.m. we left the desert track behind 
and emerged on the edge of the cultivated lands of Tokuzak. 
Here by the side of the little Sarai of Saibagh several parties 
of travellers, with ponies and rude carts, were resting in the 
shade of a small poplar grove. Water kept ready in big jars 
and a stock of melons were the refreshments provided at this 
Turkestan edition of a roadside inn. 

The hours of a pleasant ride which followed will long 
keep fresh in my memory. Hamlet after hamlet was passed, 
ensconced among green avenues of poplars, mulberry-, apricot-, 
and other fruit trees. The mud walls of the houses with their 


CHAP. VIL. | RIDE INTO KASHGAR 842) 


bright yellow and brown looked singularly neat in this setting 
of gardens and orchards. Here and there a cemetery with 
tombs of sun-dried bricks and a crumbling mosque or Ziarat 
built of the same material added a picturesque touch to the 
rural landscape. The high-pitched songs of my pony-men as 
we moved at a rapid amble through the lanes always brought 
the children and women before the doors of their homesteads. 
The men were. busy in the fields, and until we got to the 
Bazar of Tokuzak I saw scarcely any grown-up person that 
was not occupied in some way. We had so far suffered little 
from the dust, for the route we had followed was not the high- 
road from Tashmalik, but a more circuitous track connecting 
hamlet with hamlet. But at last we emerged on the road and 
found it as dusty as it was broad. High lumbering carts or 
‘Arabas’ dragged along by little ponies and droves of 
donkeys kept up a continuous cloud. I was getting eager to 
reach the end of the journey and too readily gave credence to 
Sadak Akhun, who about 5 p.m. assured me that Kashgar 

ras now within one ‘Tash’s’ distance. I had not yet 
learned that, away from the main caravan roads where the 
Chinese administration has marked the distances of ten ‘ Li’ 
(approximately two miles) by small mud-built towers popularly 
known as ‘Tash’ (stone), this measure in Turkestan conveys 
only the vaguest estimate of distance. 

It was disappointing when after an hour’s ride there was 
still no sign of the river-bed which [ knew we should have to 
cross before approaching the town. At last at a turn of the 
road a broad nullah came in sight, with a shallow stream. 
But beyond it no trace of walls, Minars or other tokens of an 
Eastern city. The river was not the Kizil-su which flows past 
Kashgar, but only a branch of it known as Ak-su (‘‘ White 
Stream’) or Telwichuk. Another three miles or so of end- 
less rice fields seemed a long distance in the failing light and 
on the tired ponies. But at last they too came to an end, and 
we forded the truly red water of the Kizil-su (‘‘ Red Stream ’’), 


120 THROUGH THE GEZ DEFILE [cnmap. vit. 


Beyond it we wound along dusty suburban lanes where the 
women with quaint caps of imposing height sat in groups 
enjoying a chat in the twilight. 

It was almost dark when the walls of the city suddenly rose 
before me. Mud-built as they are, they looked massive and 
imposing, while the quaint regularity of their battlements and 
square bastions vividly reminded me of many a picture of 
medizeval towns seen in old books of travel. Outside the city 
walls all was quiet and dark. The gates were already closed. 
At last Sadak Akhun struck off to the left, along a short, 


ROAD TO MR. MACARTNEY'S HOUSE, WITH CITY WALL. 


poplar-lined avenue, and the light of a lantern showed me the 
outer gate of Mr. Macartney’s residence that was to offer me 
a home for the next few weeks. Belated as I was, my arrival 
was not unexpected, and as I descended from the spacious 
court to the terraced garden I found myself welcomed in the 
heartiest fashion by Mr. and Mrs. Macartney. Comfortable 
quarters adjoining the garden were awaiting me, and when 
after a needful change I joined my hosts in their dining-room, 
there was every little luxury to favour the illusion that I 
was in an English home far away from the Heart of Asia. 


CHAPTER VIII 
STAY AT KASHGAR 


Tue cheerful impressions of that first evening under Mr. 
Macartney’s hospitable roof were a true indication of the 
happy circumstances under which the busy weeks of my stay 
at Kashgar were to pass. Busy, indeed, they were bound to 
be; for numerous and urgent tasks had to be completed before 
T could set out from the capital of Chinese Turkestan for the 
proper goal of my explorations. For almost every one of these 
tasks I stood in need of Mr. Macartney’s experience and active 
help. But great as the facilities were which his official 
position and local knowledge assured to me, I could scarcely 
have availed myself of them with full advantage, had not his 
friendly care surrounded me from the first with all personal 
comfort and encouragement. After two months of almost 
incessant mountain travel I felt the need of some bodily rest. 
Nowhere could I have combined it more pleasantly with active 
preparations for the long journey before me than in the 
charming residence to which my kind Kashgar friends 
welcomed me. 

Chini-Bagh had been a simple walled-in orchard with a 
little garden house, such as every respectable Kashgari loves 
to own outside the city walls, when Mr. Macartney, more than 
ten years before my visit, took up the appointment of the 
Indian Government’s Political Representative at Kashgar. 


Continuous improvements effected with much ingenuity and 
121 . 


122 STAY AT KASHGAR [CHAP. VIII. 


trouble had gradually changed this tumbledown mud-built 
garden house into a residence which in its cosy, well-furnished 
rooms now offered all the comforts of an English home, and in 
its spacious out-houses and ‘‘ compound ”’ all the advantages 
of an Indian bungalow. Built on the very brink of a high 
loess bank overlooking the broad bed of the Titmen-Darya, the 
house and the adjoining terraces command a delightfully open 
view over the fertile belt of village land and gardens which 
skirt the city to the north. Even through the light dust haze 
which is so common a feature of a Turkestan summer day, the 
picturesque outlines of the low hill-range beyond gave a 
setting to the scene. On repeated occasions when rain had 
cleared the atmosphere, I enjoyed distinct views of the great 
ice-crowned range north and north-east of Muztagh-Ata, and 
also of distant snowy peaks belonging to the Thian-shan 
mountains. 

After the fatigues and daily ‘‘ rush”’ of the preceding two 
months of rapid marching, it was a delightful change to the 
well-ordered surroundings of my friends’ home. Free for a 
time from the petty cares of camp life, I could enjoy in their 
genial company all that makes the contact with European 
ways of life and thought attractive. Yet I felt as safe as 
before from the bustle and outside interference which seem so 
difficult to evade during an ordinary European existence. 
There was ample reason to feel grateful for the peace and 
leisure thus assured to me; for I needed them badly for the 
manifold labours that now claimed my attention. 

Foremost among them was the organisation of the fresh 
caravan which was required for my onward journey, and the 
explorations in the desert. I realised that my chances of 
success in covering within the limited period allowed the 
whole of the wide area I desired to visit, depended largely 
on the careful selection of the men and animals that were 
to make up my party. It was essential to limit the baggage 
with a view to rapidity of movement, and at the same time 


CHAP. vill.} ORGANISATION OF CARAVAN 123 


to ensure that all stores and equipment required for travels 
likely to spread over eight months, and under widely vary- 
ing conditions of ground and climate, should be kept within 
easy reach. I found that, including riding animals, eight 
camels and twelve ponies would be needed for my caravan. 
The season was not favourable for the purchase of camels, 
for most of the caravan animals were away engaged on the 
brisk summer traffic towards the Russian trade-centres of 
Andijan and Almati. But after lengthy trials and negotia- 
tions, in the course of which the local experience and help of 
Munshi Bahadur Shah and other members of Mr. Macartney’s 
establishment proved of great advantage, the necessary com- 
plement of transport and riding animals was gradually secured. 
The trouble taken about their selection was, as subsequent 
experience showed, fully rewarded by the result. For not- 
withstanding the fatigues and hardships implied by travels 
which covered an aggregate of more than 3,000 miles, none of 
the animals I brought from Kashgar ever broke down. The 
average price paid for the camels amounted to 624 Tangas 
per animal, representing approximately Rs. 91, at the then 
current rate of exchange. The cost of the ponies varied con- 
siderably, an average of 260 Tangas, or 88 rupees, being paid 
for each of a serviceable lot of baggage animals. 

In regard to the personnel, too, of my caravan it was 
necessary to exercise careful selection, in order to keep the 
number of followers down to the minimum indicated by con- 
siderations for economy and for facility of supply arrangements. 
For Mirza Alim, my personal servant from Peshawar, who had 
proved not quite equal to the fatigues of rough and rapid 
marching in the mountains, I found a very useful substitute 
in Muhammad-Ju, a hardy ‘ Kirakash’ of half Yarkandi, 
half Kashmiri extraction, who from long trading experience on 
the Karakorum route had acquired much useful knowledge 
about ponies. Having served Captain Deasy on his return 
journey to India, he had also learned the indispensable rudi- 


124 STAY AT KASHGAR [CHAP. VIII. 


ments of the art of looking after a ‘Sahib’s’ kit and of 
serving at table. 

Niaz Akhun, a Chinese-speaking native of Kashgar, whom, 
after several unsuccessful experiments with other individuals, 
I managed with Mr. Macartney’s help to secure for the com- 
bined duties of ‘Tungchi’ (Chinese interpreter) and pony 
attendant, was outwardly a person of more imposing appear- 
ance and of manners to match. He had accompanied Mr. 
and Mrs. Littledale on their great journey through Tibet 
and China, and not unnaturally assumed an air of superiority 
towards the rest of my Turki followers who had not seen 
‘Bajin’ (Peking) and the other wonders of Cathay. It is 
only fair to record that they were ever ready to retaliate 
by artfully conveyed doubts whether he was truly to be 
reckoned among faithful followers of Islam or not rather 
among his much-extolled paragons, the heathen Chinese. 
His relative intelligence made him useful for his particular 
function, and as an interpreter he served me_ honestly. 
Perhaps it was just as well that during the weeks of our stay 
in the well-ordered surroundings of Chini-Bagh he had no 
opportunity to display before me those little personal failings, 
such as his inordinate addiction to opium and gambling, and 
his strong inclination to qualified looting, which subsequently 
caused occasional trouble. Two young ‘ Tugachis,’ or eamel- 
men, were engaged with less difficulty through the traders who 
had sold me the camels. Neither Roza Akhun nor Hassan 
Akhun had seen much of the world beyond the caravan routes 
northward. But young as they were they well knew the 
difficult art of camel management, and prompted perhaps by 
youthful curiosity and love of adventure, proved readier to face 
the hardships and supposed risks of desert journeys than their 
elders. It mattered little that they made up for their cheerful- 
ness and steady conduct on the march through the sand-wastes 
by an irrepressibly pugnacious disposition whenever the varied 
temptations of a Bazar were near. 


cuar. vi.] THE KASHGAR CRAFTSMEN 125 


The numerous repairs and additions the camp outfit needed 
were also among the practical preparations demanding early 
attention. Saddlery, mule trunks, ‘ Kiltas,’ and most other 
articles of equipment bore marks of the rough wear to which 
they had been subjected on the long journey from Kashmir. 
Ever since we emerged from the gorges of Hunza, yaks and 
Kirghiz ponies seemed to have vied with each other in doing 
damage by knocking and rubbing their loads against every 
rock passed on the mountain tracks. The stay at Kashgar 
seemed none too long for effecting the needful repairs, for the 
Turkestan artisan has none of the imitative skill of the 
average Indian craftsman; and finding it apparently easy to 
make a living, he takes little trouble to accommodate himself 
to the requirements of the passing European traveller. In 
view of such leisurely habits of work and the need of constant 
supervision, I soon ceased to be surprised at seeing Mr. 
Macartney’s outer courtyard more or less permanently 
occupied by the few ‘ Ustads’ (masters) who cared to attend 
to my orders. 

The most troublesome operation of all proved to be the 
preparation of the additional water-tanks which I decided 
to get made for use in the desert. The pair of galvanised 
iron tanks which had been specially constructed for me at 
Calcutta had been safely transported across the mountains. 
But the total quantity of water which with due regard 
to the carrying capacity of camels they had been designed to 
hold, amounted only to seventeen gallons a-piece. The supply 
of water thus assured would have been, of course, wholly 
inadequate for the needs of a party such as I proposed to take 
to sand-buried sites in the desert, and the construction of at 
least four more tanks proved indispensable. It was found 
that the only material locally available for this purpose con- 
sisted of iron tanks in which kerosene oil is transported into 
Turkestan from the Transcaspian railway. The adaptation 
and strenethening of these much-battered “tins,” together 


126 STAY AT KASHGAR [CHAP. VIII. 


with the making of the wooden covers needed for their safe 
transport, was a task that taxed the combined resources of 
my blacksmith ‘ Ustads’ for weeks. 

But luckily the necessity of attending to all these practical 
arrangements did not prevent me from finding time also for 
more congenial and equally pressing tasks. Sitting in the 
cool shade of the poplar groves of Mr. Macartney’s garden, I 
spent long and pleasant hours, refreshing by systematic study 
my knowledge of the ancient accounts of Eastern Turkestan, 
such as the Chinese historical Annals, the narratives of old 
Chinese pilgrims and of the earliest European travellers, have 
preserved for us. To me it is always a source of pleasure to 
be able to read such old records on the very soil to which they 
refer. At Chini-Bagh I enjoyed exceptional advantages for 
this favourite occupation; for Mr. Macartney, whom long 
residence and the power of keen observation have made 
thoroughly conversant with the economic and social conditions 
of modern Turkestan, was ever ready to allow me to ransack 
the storehouse of his knowledge for that information without 
which the ancient accounts of the country cannot be properly 
understood. Often when matters of Chinese lore were con- 
cerned Mr. Macartney would summon to our discussion Sun- 
Ssu-yieh, the ‘‘ Chinese Munshi” of the Agency, a literatus 
thoroughly versed in his classics, and yet keenly alive to the 
things of this world. As I listened to his vivacious expla- 
nations, which Mr. Macartney kindly interpreted, I could not 
help thinking of my dear old Kashmirian Pandit Govind 
Kaul, and the converse I used to hold with him in Sanskrit 
during the long years of common scholarly labour. Bitterly 
I regretted the great gap in my philological equipment, my 
ignorance of Chinese. But how should I ever find the leisure 
to fill it, except perhaps in that ‘‘ fresh birth ”’ to which, in 
accordance with the Indian notion, I used to refer my Chinese 
friends ? 

It was an important object of my stay at Kashgar to 


oHaP. vul.] VISITS TO CHINESE OFFICIALS 127 


familiarise the officials of the Chinese provincial Government 
with the purpose of my intended explorations and to secure 
their goodwill, which I realised would be an indispensable 
condition for the practical execution of my plans. In this’ 
direction too I could not have wished for more effective help 
than that which Mr. Macartney accorded to me. Already the 
initial visits which I was able to pay in his company to the 
Tao-tai, or Provincial Governor, and the other chief dignitaries 
were under such expert guidance most instructive to me and 
full of interest. In the course of these visits, followed as they 
were by ‘‘ return calls’’ and other less formal interviews, I 
was introduced to at least a rudimentary knowledge of the 
“form’’ and manners which Chinese etiquette considers 
essential for polite intercourse. It was no small advantage 
to receive this instruction through a mentor so familiar with 
all Chinese notions and ways as Mr. Macartney. Every little 
act and formality, quaint and strangely contrary to our habits 
as it often seemed, thus acquired its due significance, until in 
the end when visiting strange ‘ Yamens’ far away from my 
Kashgar friends, I found a comforting assurance in the rigid 
uniformity of these observances. 

It was essential to secure from the Tao-tai the issue of 
clear instructions to the Amban of Khotan which were 
likely to assure me all needful assistance in regard to trans- 
port, supplies, and labour, as well as full freedom for my 
movements. In view of the serious difficulties which through 
a sort of demi-official obstruction Captain Deasy had ex- 
perienced in the same region only eighteen months earlier, it 
seemed doubtful at first whether the way would be effectively 
cleared for my operations, particularly so far as they related 
to survey work south of Khotan. That the efforts which Mr. 
Macartney undertook on my behalf proved in the end entirely 
successful was due largely, I believe, to the personal influence 
and respect he enjoys among all Chinese officials of rank in 
the Province. After a series of interviews and a lengthy 


128 STAY AT KASHGAR [CHAP. VII. 


correspondence the Tao-tai agreed to issue the desired 
instructions. The result showed that he faithfully carried out 
his promise, and that Mr. Macartney’s representations, 
coupled with what explanations I could give through him of 
the historical connection of ancient Indian culture and 
Buddhist religion with Central Asia, had effectually dispelled 
any suspicions which might otherwise have been roused by the 
intended excavations and surveys. 

In the course of these interviews my references to the 
‘Si-yu-ki,’ the records of Hiuen-Tsiang’s travels, proved 
singularly helpful. All educated Chinese officials seem to 
have read or heard legendary accounts of the famous Chinese 
pilgrim’s visit to the Buddhist kingdoms of the ‘‘ Western 
countries.” In my intercourse with them I never appealed in 
vain to the memory of the ‘‘ great monk of the Tang dynasty” 
(Tang-Seng). Endeavouring as I now was to trace his foot- 
steps through Turkestan as I had done before in more than 
one part of India, I might well claim that saintly traveller as 
my special patron in the heaven of Arhats. 

Strange enough it seemed to me at the time, this pleasant 
intercourse with the friendly old Tao-tai, his colleague, the 
‘Hsieh-tai,’ or General, and the rest of the local Mandarins, 
when I thought of the great political upheaval far away in 
the east of the empire. Through the Reuter telegrams 
transmitted from Gilgit and the news indirectly conveyed 
to us from Russian sources we knew of the fierce fighting 
around the legations and the danger surrounding European 
settlements elsewhere in China. Through the telegraph 
line from Urumchi to Kashgar the Chinese officials too were 
receiving accounts of the great conflagration, and apparently 
fairly correct ones. For while Europe was held in horrified 
suspense by the false news of a general massacre at Peking, 
the reports communicated to us from the Yamen, though 
admitting much fighting, stoutly maintained that the legations 
kept up their defence and were safe. 


cHAP. vill.] DANGER FROM CHINESE TROUBLES 129 


Disturbing rumours about the conflict with the European 
Powers had already in July spread through the Bazars of 
Kashgar, and just a week before my arrival a feeling of mutual 
apprehension and distrust threatened for a moment to bring 
about a collision between the Muhammadan population and the 
Chinese garrison quartered in the Yangi-Shahr, or ‘“ New 
City.”’ The commotion luckily died away when it was found 
that the Chinese Commander-in-Chief, whose visit to the ‘“‘Old 
City” with an unusual escort had given rise to alarm, had 
only come to play a harmless game of cards at the Hsieh-tai’s 
Yamen! The recollections of the last great rebellion against 
Chinese rule (1863-77) have, indeed, not disappeared from the 
‘““New Dominions’; but the peaceful cultivators of the oases 
and the easily cowed petty traders and artisans of the towns 
have little reason to wish back the times when the turbulent 
‘Andijanis’ carried on their exactions in the name of Islam. 

Kashgar, since the days of Sir Douglas Forsyth’s mission, 
has so frequently received the visits of European travellers 
that I may be excused from attempting within the limited 
space of this narrative to describe the general features and 
life of the city. Most of my time was spent in busy work at 
Chini-Bagh; and to the little oasis of Anglo-Indian civiliza- 
tion which my kind hosts had created around themselves cling 
my main recollections of Kashgar. There was little contact 
with the outer world to vary the pleasant round of our daily 
life. Though the worst of the summer heat of the Turkestan 
plains had passed, it was still warm enough during the middle 
part of the day to make the freshness of the morning particu- 
larly attractive for work. So I was regularly astir with the 
break of day, and 6 a.m. found me established beside my 
books and papers under the tall poplars of the terraced garden. 

The fruit season had fully begun. The closely planted 
apricot-, peach-, and plum-trees of the orchard oceupying the 
upper terrace were already bending low under an abundance 


of luscious fruit; while a little later a fine bower of vines 
10 


130 STAY AT KASHGAR [CHAP. VIII. 


supplied an equally welcome complement to my “‘ Chota 
Hazri.”” As I sat at work I could see and hear the little 
cavalcades of cultivators and their women-folk as they gaily 
rode along the road between the river and the garden, bring- 
ing their produce to the city markets. Only beggars seemed 
to walk on foot, and even they were often provided with 
donkeys. Breakfast assembled us as the morning wore on, 
in a stately little arbour, where rows of tall poplars planted 
in a square, after the fashion of all Turkestan gardens, gave 
grateful shade at almost all hours. There were luckily no 
morning papers and daily mails to delay attention to the 
work of the ‘ Ustads,’ who had in the meantime leisurely 
settled down to their several tasks. A short stroll taken 
round the courtyards after breakfast, usually in Mr. Macart- 
ney’s company, enabled me to control the progress—or 
otherwise—that their labours of repair or construction were 
making. 

Then my friend retired to his ‘ Daftar’ to write his 
reports or to go into the cases of his polyglot clientele from 
across the Indian borders. Punjabi traders, Hindu money- 
lenders from Shikarpur, Ladaki carriers, Kanjuti settlers in 
Raskam, and hoc genus omne—all had occasion at one time 
or other to seek the presence of the ‘ Mulki Sahib ’ (Political 
Officer) whom the ‘Sirkar’s’ paternal care had planted far 
away in the Turkestan capital to protect their persons and 
interests. I myself, though plentifully provided with writing 
work, ordinarily managed to give an hour or two about mid- 
day to the study of Turki texts with grave Mullah Abdul 
Kasim, a shining academical light of the chief Madrasah of 
Kashgar. Muhammadan learning, such as the country knows 
in these days of infidel rule, is purely theological. I have no 
doubt that the good Mullah would have preferred a discussion 
on a knotty passage of some Arabic manual of religious law 
to our readings of vulgar Turki, even though they concerned 
the exploits of that royal champion and martyr of Islam, holy 


CHAP. VIII. ] LIFE AT CHINI-BAGH 131 


Satok Boghra Khan. The hottest hours of the day, in the 
early afternoon, usually found me in the dark-room I had 
improvised in the Hospital Assistant’s empty quarters, busy 
with the developing of the many photographs I had taken 
on the preceding part of the journey. Later on, after tea- 
time, a walk with my hosts along the shady village lanes, 
or frequently a ride on my newly-bought Andijani mare 
would bring welcome recreation. But perhaps the pleasantest 
hours were those when after dinner we would sit in the mild 
evening air on the flat roof of my quarters adjoining the main 
house. From there we could watch the frequent picnic parties 
of Kashgar families which had gone out early in the day to 
feast on the profusion of fruit in the orchards owned by almost 
all respectable citizens in the environs, and which were now 
gaily returning in long cavaleades of men, women, and 
children. Their songs sounded to me very melodious, often 
strangely reminding me of airs I had heard long ago on road 
and river in Hungary. 

As if to remind us of the West, which seemed so distant, 
there reached us at times as we sat in the evenings snatches 
of Russian airs wafted across by a breeze from the grounds of 
the Russian Consulate, half a mile away, while the men of 
the Cossack guard were singing in chorus. F requently we 
saw the men on our rides in and about the city, but no oppor- 
tunity offered for making the acquaintance of their ‘ Sahibs,’ 
as we should say in India. M. Petrovsky, the Imperial 
Consul-General of Russia at Kashgar, to whom, in view of 
his scholarly interest in the ancient history and ethnography 
of these regions and his activity as a collector of Central- 
Asian antiquities, I was particularly anxious to pay my 
respects, was indisposed and could not receive me. It was 
not until my return from Khotan, nine months later, that 
IT had the satisfaction of making the acquaintance of this 
accomplished official. 

Apart from the small Russian colony gathered at the Con- 


152 STAY AT KASHGAR [CHAP. VIII. 


sulate, Father Hendricks and a Swedish missionary, Mr. 
G. Raquette, with his wife, were then the only Europeans 
at Kashgar, and them we saw often. Father Hendricks, 
whom Catholic mission labours had brought many years ago 
from Holland, his native land, to Mongolia and hence to 
Kashgar, seemed to exemplify in his person the principles of 
international amity by being an equally frequent and enter- 
taining visitor at Chini-Bagh, the Russian Consulate, the 
Swedish Mission, and the Chinese Yamens. The visits of the 
kindly Abbé, always bringing a plentiful budget of news and 
rumours, impartially gathered from these often conflicting 
sources of information, might have gone a long way to console 
any one likely to regret the absence of a local newspaper. 

I can only briefly mention the remains of ancient structures 
which were the object of my first short excursions in the 
vicinity. Considering that the site of Kashgar in all pro- 
bability corresponds to that of the capital of the ancient 
territory of ‘ Kie-sha,’ which Hiuen-T'siang describes as 
possessing hundreds of Buddhist monasteries, the remains 
of the pre-Muhammadan period still traceable above ground 
are scanty indeed. The most conspicuous is a much-decayed 
mound of sun-dried brick masonry rising over the deep-cut 
northern bank of the Tiimen-Darya, about a mile and a half 
to the north-west of Chini-Bagh, which undoubtedly repre- 
sents the remains of a large Stupa. The present height 
of the mound is 85 feet, and the diameter of its base 
from east to west about 160 feet. But notwithstanding 
the exact survey made I found it impossible to ascertain 
the original form of the whole Stupa, or even to fix its 
centre, to such an extent have the masses of soft brick- 
work fallen or crumbled away. It was for me an instruc- 
tive observation to find that fully 15 feet of the masonry 
base now lie below the level of the irrigated fields close 
by. I had here the first indication of that remarkable rise 
in the general ground level, mainly through silt deposit, 


CHAP. vil.| VISIT TO LIU-KIN-TANG’S TEMPLE 33 


which my subsequent observations on the site of the ancient 
capital of Khotan clearly demonstrated. Of a similar though 
smaller Stupa mound, a mile and a half to the south of the 
city, no details need be given here. Nor is it possible to find 
space for descriptions of more modern places of interest which 
I visited in the environs. But I may, perhaps, make an 
exception in the case of my visit to the “ New City,” the 
Chinese cantonment of Kashgar, of which I here give my 
impressions such as my diary records them. 

Mr. Macartney wished to return the call of the Chu-kuan’s 
or City Prefect’s chief assistant, and I myself wanted to profit 
by the occasion to do some “ shopping” in things Chinese. 
The day was gloriously clear and yet comparatively cool. So 
our ride of some eight miles along the broad, well-shaded 
road which connects the two cities, was enjoyable even though 
the sun still stood high. The branch of the Kaizil-su, which 
is crossed about midway, was full of reddish-brown water, a 
sign that the heavy rain of a few days before had left its 
mark in the mountains. Close to the north-west corner of 
the “‘ New City,’”’ and not far to the left of the road, rises a 
stately complex of buildings, the Chinese temple consecrated 
to the memory of Liu-Kin-tang, the great general who, after 
Yaqub Beg’s death in 1877, reconquered Turkestan. To this 
we rode first. 

The temple stands in the midst of a large and well-kept 
arbour of poplars, and already its outer court showed, by its 
clean appearance and the evident care bestowed on repairs, 
that the means are not wanting to maintain worthily the 
memory of this modern hero of Chinese power in the ‘‘ New 
Dominions.” This is fully accounted for by the fact that ever 
since the reconquest the general’s relatives have exercised a 
preferential claim to all the best appointments in the Pro- 
vince. Through a high gateway decorated with wonderful 
stucco volutes we entered the second court. Adjoining the 
gateway and facing towards the innermost court, is a fine 


134 STAY AT KASHGAR (CHAP. VIII. 


wooden stage raised some eight feet above the ground. As 
we ascended it we noticed with amusement that the walls 
of what may be called a sort of greenroom, bore cleverly 
executed drawings in charcoal of Europeans. 

The temple itself, approached through a third colonnaded 
court, is an imposing hall, lavishly decorated outside with 
boards blazing forth auspicious inscriptions in scarlet and 
gold. But it is in the inside of the hall that we had occasion 
to admire the generosity and good sense of those who raised 
this monument. The whole of the side walls, right and left, 
are covered with series of large paintings representing in 
sequence the victorious career as well as the administrative 
activity and private life of Liu-Kin-tang. There are quaint 
but graphic pictures of the battles and sieges by which he 
reduced the rebellious province. The characteristic features of 
the Andijanis who played the leading part in the revolt, and 
of the dark-skinned Tartar people of Urumchi and other 
centres to the east, are reproduced with striking fidelity. We 
see the general sitting in court, punishing malefactors, and in 
all the chief functions of a provincial governor. Other pictures 
show him returning to his ancestral home, his meeting with 
his aged mother, &c. It is a remarkable cycle of illustrations 
of a great career, and when properly reproduced, it would be 
no mean acquisition for an Ethnographic Museum in Europe. 
The richly gilt altar or central fane contains curiously enough 
a very Western souvenir of the Chinese general, his portrait 
in the form of a photograph enlarged to life size. 

I could find no representation of any Chinese deity sharing 
the honours of the place with the departed hero. But on the 
parts of the main wall not occupied by the altar, two large 
representations of mythological animals attracted attention. 
To the right is a remarkably spirited picture of a storm-pro- 
ducing dragon, drawn with a verve and power of imagination 
which betoken no mean artist. As I looked at the wonderful 
masses of cloud propelled by the dragon’s blast, I thought of 


, 


CHAP. VIII. | CHINESE CANTONMENT T35 


old Hiuen-Tsiang’s account of the fearful ‘ Nagas’ which ouard 
the Pamir heights with their winds and icy showers. Chinese 
eyes seem still to see the powers of nature as they saw them 
then. The royal tiger drawn on the opposite side of the wall 
is no match for this noble dragon, and bears in his half-human 
face an expression of such utter dejection that we were unable 
to withhold our mirth. I wondered whether it was the inten- 
tion of the artist to show the noble beast in a mood of hopeless 
resignation at its own wickedness. 

The attending priest who greeted 
‘ Ma-shao-yieh,”” as Mr. Macartney is 
called in Chinese, with unfeigned reve- 
rence, seemed a shyand modest specimen 
of his class. His ways and dress re- 
minded me of a Lama, freshly emerged 
from some forlorn little monastery. 
He talked glibly enough of the benefits 
which the temple enjoys owing to the 
generosity of the high officials of the 
province, who look to Liu-Kin-tang 
as a patron saint watching over their 
interests. But when it came to being 
photographed—an operation to which 
the average Chinaman in these parts 
submits with relish—he grew hope- 
lessly nervous and looked as if he 
were preparing himself for the worst. 
The operation passed off all the same, 
and a good douceur revived the spirits 
of this humble devotee. 


The little suburb, through which we 

PRIEST IN LIU-KIN-TANG’S 0 
Eki sie ** had to ride on our way to the north 
gate of the Yangi-Shahr, presented a 
markedly Chinese appearance. There were groups of Chinese 
soldiers everywhere with the strangely mixed womenfolk they 


136 STAY AT KASHGAR [CHAP. VIII. 


take unto themselves in these foreign parts. The petty traders 
are also largely Chinese, and the contents of their booths 
showed that they cater for Chinese tastes. 

I saw, in fact, the Chinese counterpart of the Bazar of an 
Indian cantonment, only with that easy disregard for order 


and appearances which the difference of European and 
Chinese notions justifies. Mutatis mutandis, the soldiers’ 


IN THE BAZAR OF THE ‘‘ NEW CITY, KASHGAR.” 


marketing place outside a Roman Castrum planted some- 
where in the East might have offered a spectacle not 
unlike this. 

This suggestion of a Castrum was curiously maintained by the 
broad street we entered on passing the gate. It contains the 
main Bazar of the cantonment besides various public buildings, 
and bisects the whole ‘‘ New City ” from north to south. The 


cuap. vi.] °© AN ARTIST-OFFICIAL 137 


Chinese shops are more numerous here than in the ‘“‘ Old 
City,” and owing, perhaps, to the ampler leht, looked neater 
and more inviting. I do not like ‘shopping’? as an occupa- 
tion. But there was so much of quaint wares in the way of 
dress, household utensils, &c., to be examined that the time 
spent in looking for suitable presents to be sent homewards, 
such as silks, &c., seemed all too short. 

It struck me as an intelligent application to modern con- 
ditions that among the neatly-docketed files of correspondence 
which one of the merchants showed us in the pigeon-holes 
of his snug office, there were letters sent to him by business 
friends in Ho-nan through Shanghai and the Indian Post 
Office. The addresses on the envelopes, neatly printed in 
English, gave the directions as to the route via Colombo- 
Rawalpindi-Gilgit and the numerous ‘‘c/o’s’’ needed for 
safe transit with far greater clearness and accuracy than 
one is accustomed to look for in the case of native Indian 
correspondents. 

Passing on from the shops we paid the intended visit to 
Mr. Macartney’s Chinese friend, Liu-Lai-chin, who owns a 
modest but clean and well-arranged house close to the 
City Prefect’s Yamen. Our host, apart from his official 
work, has no mean reputation as an artist, and I had 
already had occasion to admire the charmingly decorated 
fan which he had painted as a present for Mrs. Macartney. 
Sitting in the well-lit and large room which served as 
office, studio, and drawing-room, it was a pleasure to ex- 
amine the delicately worked scrolls and paintings with 
which the artist-official had adorned his walls. Even 
more, perhaps, I enjoyed watching his eager and animated 
conversation with Mr. Macartney. It turned in part on 
antiquarian questions which my references to Hiuen- 
Tsiang’s account of the ‘‘ New Dominions” had _ raised. 
Though only small portions of the discourse could be made 
intelligible to me through Mr. Macartney’s kindness, it was 


138 STAY AT KASHGAR [CHAP. VIII. 


impossible to mistake in his friend’s remarks the spirit of true 
historical interest, that connecting link of Chinese and 
Western thought. I shall ever retain the pleasantest recollec- 
tion of the air of culture and refinement which seemed to fill 
this quiet household. 


MY SERVANTS FROM KASHGAR AND YARKAND. 


CARAVAN STARTING FROM KASHGAR. 


CHAPTER IX 
KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH 


On the morning of the 4th of September, I was ready to take 
the field again. The five weeks of refreshing rest at Kashgar 
had passed so fast that there seemed at the end scarcely time 
enough for the completion of the multifarious preparations 
that my journey eastwards demanded. My start for Khanui, 
where ancient remains had been reported, was a move of dis- 
tinct practical utility. It gave me an opportunity for a kind 
of experimental mobilisation of my caravan. As the site to 
be examined lay only one long march to the north-east of 
Kashgar, and as I should have to return to the latter place 
before proceeding on the journey to Khotan, it was easy to 


discover and remedy in time any deficiencies which in the 
139 


140 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH [CHAP. IX. 


hurry of the preparations had been overlooked. On the other 
hand, it meant a definite start, and duly impressed all 
‘Ustads ’ with the necessity of completing their tasks. 

My amiable hosts had made light of my announcement 
that the morning of the 4th of September would see my cara- 
van on the march and their compound clear of the motley 
accession of servants and followers I had brought there. 
They had seen several visitors start with a delay of half a day 
or more, such as illustrates the delightful dilatoriness of 
Central-Asian travel, and were no doubt prompted in their 
sceptical predictions also by the wish to extend their kind 
hospitality yet a little longer. I was, therefore, not a little 
pleased to find that men, camels, and ponies all fell into their 
places without much trouble in the early morning. <A. pre- 
liminary weighing of all baggage allowed its quick arrange- 
ment and loading. The ‘ Ustads’ had managed to finish 
their labours late on the preceding evening. No time was 
taken up with the men’s leavetaking—it could be left for the 
final move—and thus the caravan, to my friends’ surprise, was 
ready to start when I joined them at breakfast. 

The camels seemed anxious to emphasise their exemplary 
punctuality. For loaded as they were, they started off, nobody 
quite knew by whose order, before breakfast was finished and 
my hosts prepared to take their intended photograph of my | 
caravan. They had not got far, however, and were promptly 
brought back to figure in front of my friend’s newly arrived 
camera. The Begs, whom the City Prefect or Hsien-kuan of 
Kashgar had sent to escort me, were also in attendance, and 
gave in their Chinese get-up an additional element of pic- 
turesqueness to the scene. 

When the procession of trimly packed camels with their 
little escort of mounted Begs and servants had passed on for a 
couple of miles, I left the hospitable roof of Chini-Bagh, glad 
at heart that it was not yet a real goodbye to the friends who 
had treated me with such kindness. My way lay past the 


CHAP. IX. | ENVIRONS. OF KASHGAR 141 


Yarbagh Gate of the city and along the foot of its northern 
walls. Then the river had to be crossed by the bridge of 
Tarbugaz, with its picturesque little Minars at either end. It 
was no market day, yet the stream of mounted peasants, droves 
of loaded donkeys and ponies that passed through the adjoin- 
ing Bazars, might elsewhere have suggested a great fair. 
Where the road, flanked by cemeteries, turns off to Hazrat 
Apak’s shrine, the true Via Appia of Kashgar, I overtook the 
camels, and then rode on between suburban gardens and through 
shaded village lanes northwards to Beshkarim. This large 
collection of hamlets which lies on the caravan route towards 
the distant Narym and which has since terribly suffered in 
the great earthquake of 1902, was reached about midday. 

In the central village, known as Beshkarim Bazar, a 
grand reception awaited me. There was the Beg of the 
little district, a cheerful Kashgari dressed in orthodox, Chinese 
fashion, ready to welcome me, and on the terrace of his 
‘Yamen,’ under shady elms, a plentiful ‘ Dastarkhan’ of 
fruit, tea, and sweetmeats. It was a pleasure to sit down in 
the airy verandah and to partake of the delicious fruit then 
abounding all over the country. For my companions and 
servants there was no lack of more substantial refreshments 
in the form of soups, large plates of mutton, and mountains 
of flat cakes. The broad market-place in front was filled 
with men and ponies, each village headman summoned for 
the occasion having evidently brought a little troop of 
mounted followers. To walk on foot is an exertion left in 
these parts only to the poorest. 

At Beshkarim Bazar nearly an hour passed, there being no 
need to hurry on in the heat of the sun before the baggage 
turned up. Then we mounted and with a following swelled 
by the local Beg’s people and the headmen under him, pur- 
sued our eastward way. For some eight miles the road 
wound through highly cultivated strips, along irrigation canals 
of varying size, all fringed with rows of poplars and willows. 


142 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH _ [cwap. ix. 


Towards three, we emerged on less fertile ground, and I was 
expecting to get near the edge of the cultivated area when 
there rose before me a grove of magnificent old poplars. It 
was the arbour enclosing the shrine of Bu (Bibi) Mairyam 


BEGS AND AKSAKAL OF BESHKARIM. 


Khanum, the saintly wife of Satok Boghra Khan, the popular 
hero of Muhammadan local tradition. Entering the court- 
yard through a small gate in the high mud wall enclosure, I 
found a delightfully shady quadrangle of old poplars, and in 
its centre under a grand elm tree a fresh collation. I was 


CHAP. Ix.]| SHRINE OF HOLY MAIRYAM 143 


not prepared like my better-trained followers to attack large 
heaps of melons and other fruit after so short an interval. 
So I strolled away into the inner part of the garden, where 
there were cool, shady walks between roomy tanks of water, 
and a fine wood-built prayer-hall.. In smaller buildings half- 
hidden behind the trees and intended for the accommodation 
of pilgrims, I could hear voices reading chapters of the Koran. 
But it was no time for popular pilgrimages, and the inmates 
were only a few itinerant mendicants and ‘ Talib-ilms’ or 
theological students. 

Beyond the garden stretched barren, sun-baked ground, 
filled with graves and tombs in all stages of decay. In its 
centre rises the simple but massive cupola which covers the 
resting-place of the holy Mairyam (Miriam). Yaqub Beg, or 
Bedaulat as he is popularly known, had raised it with hard- 
burnt bricks, and the good condition of the building, which 
has seen no repairs since the death of its founder, speaks 
well for the solidity of the construction. All around are only 
crumbling ruins, mud walls slowly mingling with the loess 
dust from which they were made. The shrine has kept some 
of the land left to it by former pious benefactors, but it would 
be against all Eastern notions if any of the proceeds were 
spent on repairs. The feeding of poor pilgrims and of the 
ever-present Darwishes is a more urgent task. 

At four my hosts and guides had finished their feast of 
melons and meat with a pious prayer, and we resumed the 
march. The single canal along which we rode could not 
supply water for the whole plain. From where we entered 
the limits of the land of Khan-ui (‘‘ the Khan’s residence ’’), 
stretches of desert ground could be seen both to the north 
and south. By 5.30 p.m. the last hamlet eastwards was 
reached. To proceed for camp to the old site which I 
intended to visit was impossible on account of the want of 
water. So I gladly assented to the proposal to pitch my 
camp in a large ‘ Bostan’ or arbour of the hamlet. I found 


144 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH _ [cnap. Ix. 


it half-swamped by an excess of irrigation such as this thirsty 
soil is, no doubt, in periodical need of. But the raised 
avenues between the cross rows of poplars were above the 
water and at one point left room enough for my tent. So the 
pleasure of being among trees and green hedges overcame all 
sanitary scruples, and when the camels arrived by nightfall 
I felt quite pleased with my new quarters. The moonlight 
glittered brilliantly on the water-logged ditches and fields, 
and around ruled a delightful silence, a foretaste of the desert 
that lay so near. 

On the following morning I started with quite an imposing 
cavaleade for the ancient site. A mile to the east of my 
camp all cultivation ceased, and a little further all trace of 
vegetation disappeared. At a distance of about two miles 
the low ridges of hard-baked loess were covered with frag- 
ments of old pottery, glass, and slag, unmistakable evidence 
of ancient habitations. But no other indications remain of 
the buildings; the walls of mud or sunburnt bricks of which 
they must have been constructed, have long ago disappeared, 
mainly, as subsequent experience showed me, through the 
erosive action of wind and sand. The people know. this 
ruined waste by the name of Hasa-Tam, and suppose it to 
have once been the capital of a ‘Chinese Khakan’ until 
‘Hazrat Sultan,’ 7.e., Satok Boghra Khan, destroyed it. 

In the middle of the pottery-strewn area, where the ground 
is slightly raised, I found a tent pitched by the Hsien-kuan’s 
order and a fresh Dastarkhan spread. But it was too early 
to indulge in such comforts, and the hopes of my guides for a 
continuation of yesterday's picnic series were doomed — to 
disappointment. The view from the rising ground displayed 
to the south nothing but a desert plain hidden on the horizon 
by an ominous dust haze. But to the east and north I could 
make out a few mounds rising high above the low banks of 
loess and sand. Sop Niaz Baba, the fine-looking old Aksakal 
of Beshkarim, who knew the neighbourhood well, spoke of 


cHAP. Ix.]| STUPA RUINS NEAR KHANUI 145 


these eminences as ‘ Tims,’ the designation current in these 
parts for mounds formed by ancient structures. So I set off 
straight to the mound on the eastern horizon, and when I 
arrived there after a three miles’ canter found to my satis- 
faction that I had got to the remains of a Stupa. The 
ravages of time had reduced it to a shapeless little hill. But 
the masonry of sun-dried bricks of which it was formed, 
displayed itself plainly at several points below the covering 
crust of earth. Immediately to the S.W. of the mound I 
could trace in low banks rising above the level of the sur- 
rounding country the remains of a great quadrangle, measur- 
ing 260 by 170 feet, undoubtedly the monastery once 
attached to the Stupa. 

I had scarcely began a rough survey of the site when 
a wind of increasing violence rose from the north. The 
mountains that were at first visible in the distance soon 
disappeared in the thick haze of dust, and with them too the 
mounds that had been previously pointed out to me. But my 
guides knew their position well and set off without hesitation 
when our work at Topa Tim (‘the Sand Mound”’) was finished 
and I wished to proceed to the ‘Tims’ northward. The four 
miles’ ride in the face of a sandstorm was not pleasant in itself, 
_ but revealed an interesting topographical fact. Unexpectedly 
I came upon a deep-cut river-bed, now almost completely dry, 
but showing by its great breadth, of some 500 feet, that it 
must once have carried a considerable quantity of water. My 
guides assured me that only after exceptionally heavy rain in 
the mountains does this ravine now contain any water. It 
must have been different in earlier times, for it is evident 
that the water supply of the ancient settlement was derived 
from it. 

There was another interesting discovery awaiting me at 
the end of the ride. As the mounds I was bound for emerged 
from the thick yellow haze, I saw to my surprise that one of 
them was a comparatively well preserved Stupa, closely re- 

EAI 


146 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH © [cuap. rx. 


sembling in its dimensions and proportions the Buddhist 
monuments of this kind on the Afghan border and in the 
northern Panjab. It rises on a three-storied square base, 
with the hemispherical dome above almost intact, to a height 
of nearly forty feet. The position it occupies, on an isolated 
tongue of high ground sloping down from the foot of the 
mountains, makes the structure look still more conspicuous. 
Behind the Stupa, which still retains on the less exposed 
southern side portions of the original coating of plaster, 
I found a great oblong mound of far greater dimensions but 
much more dilapidated. Traces of niches or cells in a three- 
fold row preserved on the side least exposed to the winds and 
the rain suggest that it may be the remains of a monastery 
attached to the Stupa. On the platform connecting the two 
structures I could trace low crumbling walls of several small 
buildings. 

The old Aksakal of Beshkarim told me that the people 
know the site by the name of Mauri Tim, and look upon the 
‘Gumbaz,’ ?.e., the Stupa, as the watch-tower of the fabulous 
‘King of Chin and Machin” who resided in the ancient city 
before Harun Boghra Khan destroyed it. That the Stupa 
goes back to pre-Muhammadan times is quite certain, and 
judging from its shape and proportions I should be inclined 
to date it several centuries previous to the arrival of Islam. 
It has not escaped the ravages of man, for on the western 
side I found a deep cutting, in all probability made long ago 
by treasure-seekers. It has been carried to the centre of the 
hemispherical dome and reveals the interesting fact that this 
Stupa contained, like others examined by me in Swat and 
Buner, a small square chamber probably intended for the 
deposit of relics. This chamber was near the top of the 
dome, and below it a narrow square shaft can still be made 
out descending into the base. 

It must be due to the dryness of the air and the absence 
of destructive climatic influences that the rows of sticks 


147 


RUINED STUPA OF MAURI TIM. 


148 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH | [cuap. Ix. 


supporting the plaster mouldings of the circular base im- 
mediately below the dome were found still intact. The 
wood, though certainly over a thousand years old, seemed 
scarcely to differ in touch and toughness from tamarisk 
branches dried for a few weeks. 

The wind with the blinding dust of sand it carried along 
was too violent that day to permit the taking of photo- 
graphs and measurements. But I returned from Khanui 
on September 6th, and a day’s work with the plane-table 
and photo-theodolite gave me a complete survey of the ruins. 
I chose for my second day’s quarters Eski, a pretty village 
some eight miles south-west of Mauri Tim, where my tent was 
pitched among groves of vines and luxuriant fields of Indian 
corn. On my way back about three miles from Mauri Tim, 
T examined a curious structure about 22 feet square, 
open at the top and showing thick walls of clay cast in 
moulds. The name Kaptar-Khana (‘‘ the pigeon house),”’ 
by which the people know it, is derived from the rows of little 
niches, about 10 inches square, which line the whole of the 
inner sides of the walls still rising to a height of 16 feet. 
The ground inside was thickly strewn with fragments of 
human bones, and local tradition asserts that it has always 
been in this condition. Nothing at or near this desolate 
structure afforded evidence as to its date, but its shape and 
apparent purpose curiously recalled a ‘ Columbarium.’ 
Neither Buddhist nor Muhammadan custom would allow 
of such a disposal of human remains. Is it possible, then, 
that this strange ruin is a relic of the times when Kashgar 
held a considerable population of Nestorian Christians ? 

On September 7th Ram Singh was sent on survey work to 
the south-east while I rode back to Kashgar, greatly pleased 
with the instructive little tour I had made and the attention 
shown to me by the local officials. The short excursion to 
Khanui had been useful in bringing to notice various deficien- 
cies in the outfit of my caravan, chiefly concerning camel gear, 


CHAP. Ix.] DEPARTURE FROM KASHGAR . 149 


Some of the animals showed bruises due to ill-fitting saddles, 

while the knocks suffered by some of my boxes plainly indicated 
the necessity of proper packing crates. So the ‘ Ustads’ were 
set to work again, and by dint of continual pressure managed 
to complete the desired alterations and additions within two 
days. On September 10th the camels with the main body of 
my camp establishment marched off to Khan-arik, where Ram 
Singh had proceeded direct from Khanui. Thus, when on 
the morning of September 11th, I set out from Kashgar on the 
journey that was to take me via Yarkand to Khotan and the 
field of my explorations, there was no imposing caravan to 
give éclat to my departure, but also no final preparations to 
cause worry or delay. On the preceding evening, a dinner 
given by the Macartneys allowed me to say a quiet goodbye 
to those members of the European community with whom 
I had become acquainted. 

On the morning of the 11th I bade farewell to my hosts, 
whose inexhaustible attention and help had rendered the 
Jong halt at Kashgar far more pleasant than I could 
reasonably have hoped. In the outer courtyard of Chini- 
Bagh there was quite a little crowd, composed of Mr. 
Macartney’s native staff and others connected with the 
Agency. Mr. Macartney himself accompanied me round 
the city walls and through the suburbs to the point where 
the high road towards the south enters open country. 

For my march to Yarkand I had chosen a route east of 
the ordinary caravan road, so as to traverse the desert tract 
containing the famous pilgrimage site of Ordam-Padshah. 
Though visited before by members of Sir Douglas Forsyth’s 
mission and by Dr. Sven Hedin, the exact position of this 
shrine had never been fixed. The opportunity thus offered 
for new topographical work and the useful experience of a 
short desert trip preliminary to longer excursions were an 
ample set-off for the slight detour. The first few miles of my 
ride took me along the road leading to the ‘ New City,” but 


150 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH _ [cnap. Ix. 


when I had once passed the busy Bazar under its bastioned 
wall with the lounging crowd of Chinese soldiers and those 
who live on them, I was able to pursue my way free from the 
bustle and dust of the high road. The village lanes along 
which I rode, guided by the Beg whom the attention of the 
Chinese district official had provided for me, gave welcome 
shade from poplars and willows. At Yonduma, some twelve 
miles from Kashgar, I passed over one of the streams into 
which the Yamanyar, from Tashmalik, divides. Beyond it lay 
a wide tract of fields of Indian corn and grazing lands, irri- 
gated by a network of shallow canals. At Dangalchi I made 
a short halt in a shady little garden, and then at a distance of 
some twenty-eight miles from Kashgar reached Khanarik. 
The Bazar into which we rode turned out to be only one of 
the five market villages which belong to Khanarik, and on 
inquiry I found that my camp had moved from this, the 
“Monday Bazar,” to the “Sunday (Yak-shamba) Bazar,” 
ten miles further east. The ride had been long and fairly 
hot, so this announcement was not particularly welcome. 
But there was nothing for it except to ride on. Towards six 
in the evening, after passing a strip of barren land which 
intervenes between these parts of the Khanarik tract, I was 
met to my surprise by a solemn assembly of well-dressed men. 
They turned out to be the Hindus of Khanarik, Khattri 
moneylenders from Shikarpur, who had ridden ahead to 
welcome the ‘Sahib.’ It was strange to meet in these rural 
surroundings, so closely resembling those of a European 
village, the representatives of a class which thrives all 
through the Punjab. However little sympathy the calling 
and general character of these men can claim, it is impos- 
sible not to feel some satisfaction at the pluck and enterprise 
which enables them to carry on their operations so far away 
from their home. The connection of the Shikarpur Banias 
with Central Asia is undoubtedly an old one. Already in the 
eighteenth century Forster found them established as far as 


CHAP. IX. | HINDUS AT KHANARIK epi 


Samarkand and the Caspian. But the opening up of Eastern 
Turkestan to Indian trade within the last thirty years 
seems to have attracted them to these parts in increased 
numbers. 

From the men who greeted me on my approach to Yak- 
shamba Bazar, I learned that Khanarik supports no less than 
eighteen Shikarpuris. Such an allotment of Hindu usurers 
to a single village tract, however large, can only imply the 
progressive indebtedness of the cultivators, and my infor- 


HINDU MONEYLENDERS. 


mants readily admitted that business was brisk. They had 
all settled down here during the last eight years, and their 
well-to-do appearance amply proved that they had employed 
their short residence to advantage. It would have been 
unfair to inquire too closely into their profits and rates of 
interest. But as the latter cannot be less than that currently 
exacted in India by the village moneylender, it is certain 
that plenty of gain finds its way through these hardy emis- 
saries into the coffers of Shikarpur bankers. To protect the 
interests of this class is a task which the representative of 


152 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH  [cmap. rx. 


the Indian Government cannot afford to neglect, however 
unenviable it may often be. So I was not surprised to find 
my welcomers loud in their praises of Mr. Macartney. 

The garden of the Beg in which my camp had been pitched was 
a large and well-secluded place, and consequently I enjoyed a 
quiet evening after my long ride. The Hindus, true to their 
native custom, brought a ‘Dali’ of fruit and sweets, and 
would not rest satisfied until I accepted some pomegranates 
and almonds for myself and melons and sugar-balls for my 
people. The spokesman of the guild was Parmanand, the 
wealthy banker from Aksu, who had left his distant place of 
business to look after some debtors in this neighbourhood. 
He assured me in advance that I should find no difficulty in 
getting my cheques cashed in Aksu ! 

On the following day my march lay to Achchik, the last 
village of Khanarik southwards in the direction of Ordam- 
Padshah. The distance was only about twelve miles, but a 
deep-cut river-bed about half-way proved a serious obstacle 
for the camels. The rickety bridge that spans this branch 
of the Yamanyar, was scarcely safe even for the ponies ; it 
was certain that camels could not be taken across it. So we 
had to wait patiently in the scanty shade of some willows 
until the slowly-moving animals arrived; then to arrange for 
the unloading of the baggage, which had to be carried over piece 
by piece. Finally a suitable spot was found nearly a mile 
higher up, where the banks sloped down less steeply. It 
was a troublesome affair to drag the shaggy quadrupeds into 
the water one by one. But once in it they swam better than 
I had expected, and guided by two villagers swimming in front 
managed to reach the opposite bank safely. The sum of 
money invested in them amounted to over seven hundred 
rupees. So it was with a feeling of relief that I saw, after a 
delay of nearly three hours, the whole caravan on the march 
again. 

Defective cultivation and patches of barren land on the 


CHAP, IX. | ON THE DESERT EDGE 153 


way to Achchik showed that we were approaching the edge of 
the desert. But Achchik itself proved a cheerful place. 
The Yuzbashi, or village headman, had prepared his house 
for my reception. The rooms looked inviting with their 
freshly-plastered walls and the plentifully-spread carpets of 
Khotan felt. But the light and air were rather scanty, and 
so I preferred to pitch my little tent in a neighbouring field, 
where the lucerne crop had just been cut. It was a de- 
lightful evening, with a distant vista over fields of wheat and 
Indian corn, hedged with poplars and mulberry-trees. Like 
many a rural view of these parts, it carried me back to the 
fertile Alfold of Hungary. | ; 

At Achchik I heard of a ‘ Kone-shahr,’ i.¢., a ruined site 
of some sort, that was said to be on the edge of the desert to 
the south-east. My informants were unable to give any idea 
of its exact distance, but believed that it could be reached by 
a detour the same day while my camp moved to Ordam- 
Padshah. A short visit seemed all that was needed, as no 
buildings were said to be extant, only scattered heaps of 
bricks and patches of ground covered with potsherds. So I 
directed my caravan to start with one guide straight to the 
desert shrine southwards, while I myself with another guide 
and the Sub-Surveyor rode off at eight o’clock to take Baikhan, 
the old site mentioned, on the way. Soon beyond Achehik 
cultivation ceased, and we entered a wide, scrub-covered 
plain of sand and loess. Neither beast nor man was seen 
until we reached Khuruz, a miserable hamlet, about four 
miles to the south-east. A little watercourse allows the 
lonely dwellers of the few scattered huts to irrigate some 
fields. Another four miles’ ride over a similar waste brought 
us to Nurunam, where some shepherds live in a couple of 
wretched hovels. Every tree forms a distinct landmark on 
this dreary plain. So we had no difficulty in fixing our posi- 
tion on the plane table as we moved along. By midday, when 
the heat grew intense, we reached Bekhtauruk, another col- 


154 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH | [cwap. Ix. 


lection of huts by the side of a swampy depression fed by a 
little canal. But of Baikhan nothing was to be seen, and 
evidence as to its distance was conflicting. The prospect of 
being benighted over our search, or of having to traverse the 
sand-dunes towards Ordam-Padshah with no daylight to 
guide us, was distinctly uninviting. I therefore felt bound 
to abandon the projected visit and to make for the shrine 
where I supposed my caravan to have preceded me. . 
So after securing a shepherd guide, we set off to the south, 
and gradually approaching the line of white sandhills, after 
an hour and a half’s ride entered the true desert area. All 
scrub disappeared, and only hardy tufts of grass known as 
‘Kumush’ covered in patches the glittering sand. With the 
hope of a more extended view we made for a higher sandhill. 
Far away to the south stretched a sea of sand, curiously resem- 
bling the ocean with its long wavelike dunes. Through the 
dust-haze that lay over the long succession of ridges there 
appeared to the south-west a darker range of low hills for 
which the extant maps had in no way prepared me, and nearer 
to us a series of high posts marking the sacred sites to be visited 
by the pilgrims. With the help of these far-visible marks it 
was easy to ascertain the position of Ordam-Padshah, as well 
as of the subsidiary ‘Mazars’ of Dost-bulak, Sultanim, and 
Kizil-jaim. : 
Following our guide, we struck to the south until we 
reached the main route of the pilgrims near a lonely rest-house 
known as Uftu Langar. There we looked in vain for the 
track of the camels which we expected to have passed long 
before. After a long and somewhat anxious wait—for it was 
getting late, we saw at last far away to the north the caravan 
emerging from behind the sandhills. Assured that I should 
not have to wait in vain for the baggage, however belated it 
might be, I rode on in the twilight towards our destination. 
The sand-dunes to be crossed steadily increased in height, 
and the going became more difficult. Even in the failing light 


CHAP. Ix:| FIRST CROSSING OF SAND-DUNES _ 155 


it was easy to make out the series of semi-lunes into which the 
drift-sand forms under the action of wind. In the intervals 
between these ridges the ground was fairly hard and white 
with alkaline salts. The ponies’ feet sank deep into the 
loose sand, and each ascent of 80 to 40 feet was thus a tiring 
performance. The lines of sandy ridges ran mostly from 
south-west to north-east, the steep inner sides of the semi- 
lunes facing all to the south-east. After a tiresome march of 
some five miles from where we first entered the moving sand 
region, we drew near to our goal. A long, open valley 
appeared between the dunes, and at its entrance from the 
north we could make out a group of stunted poplars. They 
grow near a well of brackish water, which is carefully pro- 
tected by a wooden shed from the advance of the neigh- 
bouring sandhills. The water-surface was at the time some 
six feet below the level of the artificially cleared ground in 
front of the shed. 

It was nearly dark when we reached there. But the water 
tasted so bad and the neighbouring rest-house looked so 
dilapidated, that I readily moved on to the main settlement 
of the desert shrine some half a mile off. There I found a 
collection of huts and Sarais built for the accommodation of 
the local custodians or ‘ Mujawirs’ and their pilgrim visitors. 
One of the rest-houses had been cleared for my party, and 
there our ponies found grass and water. I myself was glad 
to discover at some distance a spot where the ground was 
firm enough for pitching my tent, and where I was safe from 
the odours that rose from the accumulated refuse-heaps of 
this strange settlement. It was a long wait till the baggage 
turned up, towards eight o’clock ; but in the pure desert air 
the evening breeze from the east felt delightfully fresh, and 
when at last the late dinner appeared and I could retire to 
rest I had almost forgotten the fatigue and heat of my first 
day in the long-looked-for desert. 

The morning showed me my surroundings in their true 


156 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH _[cmap. Ix. 


colouring: the little plain on which my camp was pitched ; 
the waves of drift-sand in front and behind; the dilapidated 
mud-built huts and Sarais—all displayed the same monotonous 
khaki. Even the sun while low down seemed to shed a grey 
light. I felt pleased to note how well my tent and clothes 
harmonized with this monochrome picture. A sand-dune 
some 35 feet high, which rises immediately behind the mosque 
and threatens to bury this modest structure before long, gave 
a panoramic view convenient for the plane table. From its 


PILGRIMS’ SARAI AT ORDAM-PADSHAH. 


top we could make out the various ‘Langars’ (travellers’ 
shelters) and shrines to the north, and thus exactly fix our 
position. -A reference to the available maps showed that 
Ordam-Padshah had been placed fully half a degree of longi- 
tude out of its true position. 

The miserable looking Mujawirs of the place had followed 
me to the dune, and now related the story how the holy 
Sultan Arslan Boghra had succumbed on this plain to the 
attack of unbelievers, i.c., the Buddhist antagonists of Islam, 


CHAP. Ix. | SHRINES IN THE DESERT 157 


and how by a miracle the slain bodies of the faithful were 
found turned towards Mecca, whereas the sand swallowed up 
the remains of the infidels. Half a mile to the west there 
rises a stack of high poplar staffs, marking the supposed 
resting-place of the sainted king. Like the staffs over all 
Ziarats in the country, they were covered with little flags and 
rags of all kinds, ex-votos of pious pilgrims. In a depression 
about half-way to the proper ‘ Mazar’ is the well used by 
the attendants of the shrine. They all claim to be descen- 
dants of the Sultan. Low mud walls on a flat piece of 
ground, a little to the west of the line of sandhills now 
approaching the extant houses, were shown to me as the 
remains of a former settlement. These ruins probably mark 
the position of houses which have been overwhelmed at a pre- 
vious date by the advancing dunes and left bare again when 
the latter had passed by in their gradual movement to the 
south-east. The same process may repeat itself in due time 
with the present houses of Ordam-Padshah. 

Notwithstanding the holiness of this curious place of 
pilgrimage my men were anxious to leave it as soon as 
possible. So my caravan was already far ahead when I 
started from Ordam-Padshah. The route to Yarkand lay 
to the south via Hazrat-Begim, another sacred site on the 
edge of the desert. The going was heavier even than 
on the preceding day, for the lines of sandhills were closer 
together and the direction to be followed made it difficult to 
utilize the narrow strips of comparatively firm ground that 
separate the successive waves of sand. My little dog felt so 
miserable in the basket in which he was to ride on a camel 
that I had allowed him to follow me on foot. But the sand 
and the heat told on him before long, and: I was glad when, 
after about four miles, I picked up the camels again and could 
safely instal ‘ Yolchi Beg’ in his lofty seat. A hole pro- 
vided in the top of the basket allowed him to look about 
without giving a chance of escape. 


158 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH | [cwap. Ix. 


The sand-dunes seemed to grow in height as we slowly 
approached the previously mentioned ridge to the south-west. 
But at last the patches of hard loess became larger and larger 
as the level rose and the ascent became perceptible. The 
ridge which had looked so high from a distance through the 
haze proved only about 300 feet above the sandy plain. Its 
pebble-strewn slopes bore a curiously scarred and withered 
look, testifying to the force of long-continued erosion by wind 
and sand. No stone or distinct formation of conglomerate 
appeared on the slope, swept clean as if with a brush. 

On the top of the ridge a number of high staffs serve as a 
directing mark for the pilgrims. So the place bears appro- 
priately the name of Ulugh-Nishan (‘‘ the High Standard ”’). 
Arslan Padshah is believed to have addressed from there his 
last prayer to the holy Beg, his adviser, who hes buried at 
Hazrat-Begim (‘‘ My Beg of holiness”). The latter shrine 
was visible to the south-west, and as the slope is far steeper 
on that side and quite clear of drift-sand, we soon reached it. 
Hazrat-Begim has little to detain the traveller, for around 
the modest mud-built quadrangle enclosing the saint’s tomb 
there are only a few wretched huts of Mujawirs and a sandy 
plain strewn with bones and refuse. The camels were, how- 
ever, tired by the ten miles’ march through the deep sand, 
and Kizil, the next inhabited place, was too far to be reached 
that day. So my tent was pitched on what I suppose to have 
been an old burial-ground near the shrine. The water from 
the well close by tasted extremely brackish, and neither 
filtering nor the lavish use of ‘‘ Sparklets’’ could make it 
palatable. 

On the morning of the 15th of September I resumed my 
march across the plain, which gradually turned into a scrub- 
covered Dasht of hard loess. At Saduk-Langar, some four 
miles off, I hailed with pleasure a little green oasis, created 
by a small watercourse. It is a Waqf or endowment for the 
benefit of pilgrims ; so we could with a good conscience allow 


CHAP. IX. | OASIS OF KIZIL 159 


our ponies to graze awhile in the few lucerne fields. By 
2 p.m. Kizil was reached, a large village on the main road 
that connects Kashgar with Yarkand. The sight of its green 
fields and gardens was truly delightful after the mournful 
desert behind us. My servants made straight for the Chinese 
rest-house and seemed surprised when I objected to putting 
up at that dusty caravanserai, with its courtyards full of 
carts, donkeys, ponies, and their attendants. Sadak Akhun 
gravely asserted that. the ‘Sahibs’ coming from Kashgar 
“always” stopped there. But then I came from Hindustan, 
and had learned by long experience that the places where 
“everybody ’’ camps are usually the least attractive. So I 
set out to search for a camping-ground, and after a while 
found what I had looked for. A charming little orchard 
surrounded by open fields gave room and shade for my tent, 
while the owner hospitably welcomed my followers in his 
house a short distance off. Grapes and excellent peaches 
were soon forthcoming, and I feasted on them in honour of 
my return from a first visit to the desert. 

The following day, the 16th of September, was spent on a 
long march through an arid waste to Kok-robat, the western 
limit of the great oasis of Yarkand. For a distance of close 
on twenty-four miles there was neither a tree nor even a shrub 
to be seen, only the gravel-covered grey ‘Dasht’ far away 
to the dusty horizon. As we were now on a post route I 
found a square, mud-built tower marking each ‘ Potai,’ the 
Chinese road measure equivalent to ten ‘Li.’ As the Potai 
seems to correspond closely to a distance of two English miles 
it is evident that the value of about one-fifth of a mile still 
holds good for the Li in Turkestan, as it does by computation, 
for the road distances recorded in India by Hiuen-Tsiang and 
other Chinese pilgrims. 

I stopped awhile at midday at Ak-robat (‘‘ the White 
Station’’), a solitary Sarai in the desolate waste. I found 
the little rest-house within the enclosure, evidently intended 


160 KHANUI AND ORDAM-PADSHAH | [cnap. rx, 


for Chinese officials and better-class travellers, surprisingly 
clean, and gratefully availed myself of its deep, shady veranda 
for a short rest while the camels came up. It was nearly five 
o'clock before my eyes again rested on green fields and trees. 
Kok-robat (‘‘ the Green Station’’) receives its water, and with 
it fertility, from a stream coming from the hill range that was 
dimly visible in the west. I had to ride through the main 
village, spreading its houses in a single street over a mile 
long, before I found an arbour suitable for my camp. I could 
not have desired a shadier or more secluded grove. Curiously 
enough there was no proper entrance through the wall enclos- 
ing it. But sun-dried bricks are a material easily handled 
and replaced. So when my choice was made the owner 
without much trouble knocked a hole in the wall and thus 
established easy communication between the ‘ Bostan’ and 
his courtyard, where my servants were quartered. The yellow 
leaves lay thick under the walnut and other fruit-trees, a sad 
memento of rapidly advancing autumn. 


ENTRANCE TO THE YAMEN, YARKAND. 


CHAPTER X 
YARKAND AND KARGHALIK 


A marc of about eighteen miles brought me on the 17th of 
September from Kokrobat into Yarkand. The scenery had 
undergone a welcome change compared with that of the 
previous day, for along the whole route there was no piece 
of barren ground to be seen. Sandy as the soil almost every- 
where is, ample water is brought to it by canals large and 
small. Long avenues of poplars and willows give shade 
along the greater part of the road. Work with the plane- 
table was not easy in this terrain coupé. But when more 
open ground was reached about half-way, near Toguchak 
village, and the direction of Yarkand could be clearly made 
out, we had the satisfaction to note that the distance and 
12 161 


162 YARKAND AND KARGHALIK [ CHAP. X. 


bearing of this previously fixed position coincided exactly 
with that derived from our survey. 

For several miles before and after Toguchak the road 
traverses country that has only within the last few years been 
brought under cultivation by means of newly opened canals 
from the Yarkand River. It was a pleasure to see a sandy 
waste thus reclaimed by dint of skilful labour. The crests of 
the low sand-dunes still retain their original scrub-covered 
surface, but everywhere around them spread carefully 
terraced fields, which were said to have already yielded this 
year a bountiful crop of wheat. The arrangement of the 
canals along the road, often crossing each other at different 
levels, indicated a systematic scheme of irrigation. The 
result is creditable to the enterprise of Liu-Darin, then Amban 
of Yarkand, who seems to have carried through a piece of 
truly productive work with remarkable energy. The labour 
employed, it is true, is said to have been wholly unpaid, i.e., 
‘Begar. Yet are not all great engineering feats of the 
East due to this agency? The cultivators to whom I talked 
acknowledged that they had been forced to the work. But 
now they were glad to occupy the ground they had reclaimed 
for cultivation, and thus to reap the direct benefit of their 
labours. The saying of the Kashmir cultivators, ‘‘ We do 
not want money, we want the slipper,” 7.¢c., compulsion, for 
any work of general utility, evidently holds true also in 
Turkestan. 

When I had crossed a broad canal from the Yarkand River 
known as Opa, about three miles from the city, I found the 
whole colony of Indian traders, with Munshi Bunyad Ali, the 
‘‘ Newswriter ’’ employed by Mr. Macartney, at their head, 
waiting to give me a formal reception. Most of the traders 
from the Punjab had already left for Ladak, and the fresh 
contingent of the year had not yet arrived from across the 
mountains. All the same it was quite an imposing cavalcade, 
at the head of which I rode into Yarkand. There were hardy 


CHAP. X.] PALATIAL QUARTERS 163 


Khattris from various parts of the Punjab, whom [I felt 
tempted to greet as quasi-countrymen; men from Jammu 
territory, equally familiar to me; and a_ sprinkling of 
Muhammadan Kashmiris, of whom there is quite a settled 
colony here. They were all in their best dresses, decently 
mounted, and unmistakably pleased to greet a ‘Sahib.’ So 
it was only natural that they wished to make some show of 
him. Accordingly I was escorted in great style through the 
whole of the Yangi-Shahr, or “ New City,” and the Bazars 
that connect it with the old one. Our clattering cavalcade 
was undoubtedly a little event for the people that thronged 
the Bazars. These all seemed broad and fairly clean; in 
point of picturesqueness far more attractive than those of 
Kashgayr. 

Then we turned off to the right and rode round the 
crenellated walls of the ‘‘ Old City’ into an area of suburban 
gardens. Here lies the Chini-Bagh which Mr. Macartney 
had in advance engaged for my residence. It proved quite a 
summer-palace within a large. walled-in garden. Passing 
through a series of courts, I was surprised to find a great hall 
of imposing dimensions, with rows of high wooden pillars 
supporting its roof. Beyond it I entered a series of raised 
apartments, once the reception-rooms of Niaz Hakim Beg, 
the original owner of these palatial quarters. There was no 
mistaking the marks of departed glory. The gilding of the 
latticework screens separating the rooms had faded, and 
other signs of neglect were numerous. Yet good carpets 
covered the floors and the raised platforms ; tasteful dados ran 
along the walls, and over the whole lay an air of solemn 
dignity and ease. When alone in my temporary mansion I 
felt the reality of the charms which such an abode offers even 
more than I had in the old Moghul and Sikh garden-resi- 
dences, once my favourite haunts in the Campagna of Lahore. 

The days which followed my arrival at Yarkand passed 
with surprising rapidity. I had intended from the first a stay 


164 YARKAND AND KARGHALIK [CHAP. X. 


of five or six days, in order to make use of the opportunities 
which Yarkand offers for the collection of anthropological 
materials and old art ware ; but several circumstances helped 
in extending it. I had been assured in Kashgar that Yarkand 
was the place where I could most conveniently arrange for the 
money needed on my further journey. There I was to find 
the Indian traders eager to take Government Supply Bills and 
my cheques and convert them into cash. Unfortunately, 
those who needed drafts on Indian Treasuries had already 
started on their way to Ladak, and the remaining Khattris 
had taken the opportunity to remit with them whatever ready 
money they had cleared by the sale of their goods. So it was 
no easy matter to find a market for my drafts, and seeing 
that only a portion of the money Ineeded could be raised 
at a reasonable rate, I was ultimately obliged to despatch a 
messenger to Kashgar. Until my messenger had returned 
with the desired cash in silver and gold a start appeared 
scarcely desirable. 

Another discovery made soon after my arrival, and equally 
annoying, was that two of the camels and-two of the ponies 
had developed sore backs, which needed cure. The fact had 
before been carefully screened from my knowledge, with the 
natural result that the evil had got worse than it need have. 
So nothing less than a week’s rest would do to make the 
transport fit again, and accordingly the camels, after careful 
examination and dressing of sores, were sent to have an easy 
time grazing in a wooded tract, a day's march southwards. 
The experience was not thrown away on me. Thereafter 
inspections of the animals were held almost daily, and those 
responsible for their loading learned to understand that the 
hire of transport in place of animals rendered temporarily 
unfit would be recovered from their own pay. 

It was lucky that my Yarkand quarters were of such 
delightful spaciousness, for from the first day of my stay 
there was no want of visitors. Yarkand is the great com- 


CHAP. X.] COSMOPOLITAN VISITORS 165 


BADAKHSHANI TRADER, YARKAND. 


mercial centre of 
Chinese Turkestan, and 
owing to its geo- 
eraphical position at 
the point where the 
routes to India, 
Afghanistan, and to 
the North meet, has 
something of a cosmo- 
politan air about it. 
The colonies of Kash- 
miris, Gilgitis, Badakh- 
shanis, and people from 
other parts of the 
Indian frontier regions 
are large, and each of 
them has members of 
some position anxious 
to show attention to a 
‘Sahib.’ So I had to 
hold regular receptions 
with the assistance of 
old Munshi Bunyad 
Ali, and ‘‘the carpet 
of my presence’? was 
rarely clear of more or 
less picturesque visitors. 
If their statements as 
to the strength of their 
respective communities 
can be trusted, Yarkand 


must have a strangely mixed population. Immigrants from 

Jakhan, Shighnan, Badakhshan, and the other Tranian tracts 
westwards abound; Kashmir and Ladak are strongly repre- 
sented; even little Baltistan has sent its colony from beyond 


166 YARKAND AND KARGHALIK [CHAP. X. 


the ice mountains. So there was no want of materials for 
anthropometric work, and I did all I could to benefit by it. 

The types of my visitors made me feel far nearer again to 
India and its borderlands. Hearing Kashmiri, Panjabi, and 
Pushtu spoken at all hours of the day in a place so closely 
resembling the native country residences of Northern India I 
might have felt myself on Indian soil. That European fashions 
have not yet invaded this corner of Asia helped to throw one 
back in regard to time too. Turki is, of course, the language 
of general intercourse among the different colonies of immi- 
grants, and as the latter scarcely ever bring wives from their 
own homes but marry in the country, it is natural that by the 
second or third generation the knowledge of their father’s 
tongue is already lost. But physical features are not so easily 
effaced, and a stroll in the Bazars is enough to convince the 
observer how large an infusion of foreign, particularly Iranian, 
blood there is in the Yarkand population. 

Apart from my visitors, there was for a great part of the 
day another crowd to fill the outer hall of my temporary 
palace. Munshi Bunyad Ali had taken care to, let it be 
known that I wished to acquire things of old local art, and in 
consequence improvised agents of such articles were pouring 
in every morning. I was specially looking out for specimens 
of that ornamented brasswork which had once its home at 
Khotan and which has become well known to lovers of Central- 
Asian art, though its local connection does not appear to have 
been realised. Judging from the quantities of beautifully 
worked ‘ Aptabas,’ ‘ Chaugans’ (tea-pots), ‘Chilapchis’ (water- 
basins), jugs, and other metal articles brought to me from 
houses of once well-to-do families, the supply must still be 
considerable. 

Among the pieces offered for sale I was able to pick out 
some excellent specimens of open metal work, all showing 
most clearly the influence of Persian floral design, yet with a 
distinct individuality of treatment. By the side of these 


CHAP. X. | OLD TURKESTAN ART-WARE 167 


indigenous art products, queer odds and ends of Chinese work 
turned up—pottery of evident merit and age, and beautiful 
pieces of embroidery from the Far East. The rich Begs of 
old days must have looked truly gorgeous in their dresses of 
state, heavy red or blue silk Chogas emblazoned with artistic 
designs of pure Chinese style. Fine carpets of Turkoman 
and Khorasan make indicated that importations from the West 
had been equally frequent. Thus Yarkand shows also in this 
respect that it has been a point where, since early Muhammadan 
times, Chinese influences have mingled with the culture of 
Tran and Turkestan. It is Khotan, however, which seems to 
have been the place of origin and the true home for most of 
the indigenous industries. Curiously enough, almost all the 
people who brought me these delightfully varied specimens of 
old art-ware were Kashmiris. The pedlars’ instinct, which 
is So conspicuous in the urban population of the valley, has 
evidently not been extinguished by emigration across the 
mountains. So I often felt as if I were besieged again in the 
camping-grounds of Srinagar by the voluble and irrepressible 
agents of Kashmirian craftsmen. 

Liu-Darin (‘ Darin’ represents the local pronunciation of 
the Chinese title ‘Ta-jen’), the Amban of Yarkand, was absent 
on tour when I arrived. But he soon returned, and after 
the due preliminaries had been arranged, I made my call at 
his Yamen. I found Liu-Darin a very amiable and intelligent 
old man. Conversation through a not over-intelligent inter- 
preter is not the way to arrive at a true estimate of character. 
But somehow Liu-Darin’s manners and looks impressed me 
very favourably. On the next day I received the return visit 
of the old administrator, and found occasion to show him the 
Si-yu-ki of Hinen-Tsiang and to explain what my objects 
were in searching for the sacred sites which the great pilgrim 
had visited about Khotan, and for the remains of the old 
settlements overwhelmed by the desert. It was again 
reassuring for me to find how popular the figure of the 


168 YARKAND AND KARGHALIK [ CHAP. X. 


pious old traveller still is with educated Chinamen. Though 
Tang-Seng, ‘“‘ the monk of the Tang Dynasty,” is evidently 
credited with many wonderful relations for which we should 
look in vain in his ‘‘ Description of the Western Countries,” 
this scarcely need disturb our conscience. 

On the 22nd of September Liu-Darin insisted on entertain- 
ing me at a Chinese dinner. Well-meant as the invitation 
no doubt was, I confess that I faced the entertainment with 
mixed feelings. My Kashgar experiences had shown me the 
ordeal which such a feast represents to the average European. 
However, things passed better than I had ventured to hope. 
The dinner consisted of only sixteen courses, and was duly 
absorbed within three hours. It would be unfair to discuss 
the strange mixture of the menu, especially as I felt quite 
incompetent to analyse most of the dishes, or the arrange- 
ments of the table. Having regard to my deficient training 
in the use of eating-sticks I was provided with a fork (never 
changed or cleaned) and a little bowl to eat from. As my 
host insisted on treating me personally to choice bits, a queer 
collection accumulated on this substitute for a plate. I felt 
more comfortable when I managed to get it cleared from time 
to time. For the hot spirit, a kind of arrack it seemed, 
served in tiny square cups as the only beverage, there was no 
such convenient depository, and in reply to the challenges of 
my convives I had to touch it more frequently than I could 
have wished. Besides my host, two of his chief officials, 
jovial-looking men, were keeping me company. 

It was a little pathetic when, in the course of dinner, 
Liu-Darin pressingly inquired as to what news I had about 
the capture of Peking by the allied forces and the flight of the 
Emperor. I had no direct news from Europe later than the 
end of July, and thus could not satisfy his curiosity. So I 
contented myself with describing the relief with which the 
safety of the legations had been greeted in Europe. The old 
‘* Political’? would not credit my ignorance, and attributed my 


cHap. x.| INTERVIEWS WITH LIU-DARIN 169 


reticence to the wish to keep back unpleasant information. 
Whatever the reliability of the news may have been that reached 
Chinese Yamens in Turkestan through the wire to Kashgar, 
it seemed clear that they realised the great danger to the 
Government they served. There may haye been anxiety about 
the future; but if my Kashgar friends’ views were right, it 
was the doubt about their own individual fortunes, not those 
of their nation, which secretly troubled the minds of the 
officials in this land of exile. 

It was arranged that after the dinner I should photograph 
my host and some of his people. So Liu-Darin at the end of 
the feast duly installed himself on a raised chair of office, 
with his little daughter and son by his knees, and some 
implements of western culture, in the shape of sundry clocks, 
&e., on a small table close by. ‘A crowd of more or less 
ragged attendants formed the background. The photos were 
easy to take, as my sitters kept as quiet as if they were 
sculptured. Then we parted in all friendship. Lin-Darin 
talked of retiring soon to his native province of Hu-nan. 
May he return to it in peace and, as my Chinese patron saint, 
‘'Tang-Seng,’ did of old, enjoy the rest he was looking for. 

The last days in Yarkand were busily spent in completing 
the winter outfit of my men and in sorting and packing my 
purchases. Accounts too had to be settled, and in this 
respect I was glad to avail myself of the skilled assistance of 
Lala Gauri Mall, the Ak-sakal (headman, literally ‘‘ white- 
beard”’) of the Hindu traders. Apart from the question of 
price—no small matter in a country where it would apparently 
be against all business principles to ask less than double 
the right amount even from local customers—there is enough 
trouble in the mere payment. The Chinese currency with 
its ‘Sers’ or ‘ Tels,’ ‘Miskals’ and ‘ Fens,’ arranged on a 
plain decimal system, would be as convenient as can be 
desired. But its simplicity is of little avail in this outlying 
province of the empire, which stubbornly clings to its time- 


170 YARKAND AND KARGHALIK [CHAP. X. 


honoured reckoning in ‘Tangas’ and ‘ Puls.’ Each of the 
little square Chinese coppers known in Turkestan as ‘ Dachins’ 
is reckoned in Kashgar and Yarkand as equal to two Puls, and 


LIU-DARIN, AMBAN OF YARKAND. 


twenty-five of them make up a Tanga. The Khotan Tanga is 
worth twice as much as the Kashgar Tanga. 

Coins representing this local unit of value there are none ; 
go all sums have to be converted into Miskals, the smallest 


CHAP. X.| CURRENCY COMPLICATIONS Lit 


available silver coins, at the ratio of eight Tangas to five 
Miskals, unless one is prepared to handle the dirty rolls of 
Chinese coppers which the local trader keeps strung up like 
sausages. But the exchange rate between silver and copper 
is not stable, and the silver Miskal was just then considerably 
above the value of forty copper pieces which the ratio just 
mentioned would indicate. So after successfully converting 
Tangas into the legal coin, a varying discount has to be 
calculated before payment can be effected. It only adds to 
these monetary complications that prices of articles imported 
from Russia are reckoned in ‘Soms’ (Roubles), which in the 
form of gold pieces of five or ten Roubles widely circulate 
through the markets of Turkestan, while the heavier Chinese 
silver ‘ Yambus,’ of horse-shoe shape and varying weight, 
have a discount of their own. During my stay in the country 
the value of the gold Rouble as against the local currency of 
Tangas represented by Chinese silver and copper pieces, 
steadily declined, and with it unluckily fell the Rupee too, 
the exchange value of which seems in Turkestan to depend 
mainly on the Rouble rate. For the well-trained arithmetical 
faculties of the Hindu trader these tangled relations offer no 
difficulty. But I confess I sadly reflected on the loss of time 
which they implied for me. 

On the 24th of September the weather became cloudy and 
the temperature distinctly cold. A yellow haze hung all 
day low over the ground and intensified the effect of the 
atmospheric change. It felt autumnally chilly in the wide 
halls of my palace, and I realised how different life in them 
would be when the winter set in. The haze still continued 
when early on the morning of the 27th of September my 
caravan was again set in march. It was market-day, and the 
endless stream of villagers that passed along the roads with 
their manifold produce and belongings was a welcome dis- 
traction. Women of the cultivating class play a prominent 
part in all the marketing. I met them in large groups or 


172 YARKAND AND KARGHALIK [CHAP. X. 


accompanied by their men and children, but in either case 
almost invariably mounted. The large fur caps with peaks of 
velvet which the women wear looked more comfortable on 
this chilly morning than when I had first seen them in the 
heat of early August. 

There was little else to occupy my attention after this 
stream of market visitors ceased with the advance of the 
morning. The broad and fairly straight road, lined with 
poplars and mulberries, runs through flat, fertile country. In 
the fields of maize the harvest was proceeding ; for the rice, 
apparently, the return of warmer days was expected. About 
five miles from the city I passed the large Bazar of Manglik, 
a long row of clean mud huts with booths opening on the 
road, but almost completely deserted, as it was not the local 
market day. Such Bazars are met at varying distances all 
along the route to Karghalik, a sure indication of the thick 
population of the fertile belt of land through which it passes. 
After a ride of about eight miles we reached the bank of the 
Zarafshan or Yarkand River. Fed by the streams which 
drain the whole mountain region between Muztagh-Ata and 
the Karakorum range, it must carry a mighty mass of water 
in the height of the summer. Even now it flowed in three 
arms which had to be crossed by boat. The clumsily built 
ferry boats could not take the laden animals, so the loads had 
to be unpacked and refitted again and again. Each of the 
branches was about forty yards broad, and the depth well up 
toa camel’s girth. It took my caravan three hours to effect 
the passage, and all through that time the traffic of laden 
ponies and donkeys was sufficient to fill the two or three ferry 
boats at each crossing as quick as they could be worked. On 
the opposite bank of this river-bed, which has the total breadth 
of a mile, we passed the large Bazar of Painap, and by five 
o’clock I reached Posgam Bazar, the end of the day’s march. 
Inside the large inner quadrangle of the Sarai I found my 
tent pitched. In the rooms of the spacious rest-house, which, 


cHAP. x.] CROSSING OF YARKAND RIVER 173 


dating from the time of Yaqub Beg, is kept clean and in a 
very fair state of repair, I should have been warmer; but I 
preferred to stick to my little tent and its fresh air as long as 
possible. 

My march on September 28th to Karghalik was a fairly 
long one, about twenty-four miles, but very enjoyable. A 
light storm overnight, though accompanied only by dust 
without a drop of rain, had thoroughly cleared the atmo- 
sphere. It was pleasant to walk in the fresh morning air 
between the carefully cultivated fields and orchards that cover 
the ground south of Posgam. Irrigation from the Yarkand 
River provides plenty of water, and the comparative proximity 
of the villages and Bazars along the route testifies to the 
prosperity of the tract. About nine miles from Posgam there 
followed a grassy plain known as Tiigiilaz, which is intersected 
by numerous clear streamlets said to be fed by springs further 
west. The sight of their limpid water, so different from the 
red, grey, or brown colouring of the larger streams seen since 
Kashgar, was in welcome harmony with the view of the distant 
snowy ranges that now showed themselves in the south-west. 
The mountains which I could see for a great portion of the 
march belong to the ranges through which the Zarafshan 
forces its way down from Sarikol. All through my stay at 
Yarkand the haze had hidden them from view. 

Beyond the Tugtlaz plain we came to the Tiznaf River, 
now reduced to a number of narrow channels, but evidently 
fed with plenty of water when the snow melts in the advanced 
ranges of the Kuen-luen. The well-constructed bridge which 
leads over the main river-bed was built, according to the 
Chinese and Turki inscription at its head, some twenty-five 
years ago, and measures fully 250 steps. Beyond followed 
a rich tract with smiling fields of lucerne, Indian corn, and 
cotton, dotted with comfortable-looking villages. At Charvak, 
the “Tuesday Bazar” of this neighbourhood, I found an 
animated scene. The Amban of Karghalik was expected to 


174 YARKAND AND KARGHALIK [CHAP. X. 


pass through on his way to Yarkand, where he was proceeding 
to welcome Liu-Darin’s successor. He had postponed his 
journey—as I was told, on account of my approaching visit— 
but the preparations for his reception were complete. Broad 
strips of scarlet cloth were stretched across from house to 
house under the matted awnings that cover the whole long 
Bazar street; the latter itself was thronged with a crowd 
apparently making holiday. The local Beg received me in 
his official Chinese garb, and politely invited me to the large 
shop that had been fitted up with carpets and felts as a kind 
of reception-room. So I had to partake of tea that was 
welcome enough after the dusty ride, and of a fine collation of 
fruit. 

By half-past four I had approached Karghalik through a 
belt. of villages rich in orchards and shrines of all kinds. 
The pebble-strewn bed of a half-dry stream, which I passed 
shortly before entering the town, betokened the vicinity of the 
hills. I soon passed into the tangled net of Bazars that form 
the centre of Karghalik town, and was struck with their 
comparative cleanliness and the thriving look of the whole 
place. It is clear at the first glance that Karghalik derives 
no small amount of profit from its position at the point where 
a much-frequented route to the Karakorum Passes joins the 
great road connecting Khotan with Yarkand. After a long 
search among the suburban gardens to the south I found a 
large plot of meadow land with some beautiful old walnut- 
trees that carried me back in recollection to many a pretty 
village in Kashmir. It was a delightful camping-ground for 
myself, and, as my people found quarters in a cottage close 
by and the ponies excellent grazing, everybody was satisfied. 

On the morning of the 29th some Begs sent by the Amban 
brought a present consisting of a sheep and fodder for my 
animals. I returned the attention with a collection of Russian 
sweets, sardine tins, and highly scented soap of German 
make, bought for such purposes at Kashgar. About noon I 


CHAP. X.] HALT AT KARGHALIK 175 


went to pay my visit to Chang-Darin, the Amban, at his official 
residence or Yamen. I was received with all the ceremony 
due to the occasion, a salute of three popeuns included, and 
soon found myself face to face with my host in his neat little 
reception-room. Chang-Darin impressed me very favourably 
with his liveliness and unmistakable intelligence. He had 
heard from the Tao-tai at Kashgar of my visit and its object. 


YETIMLUKUM MAZAR WITH CEMETERY, NEAR KARGHALIK. 


So no lengthy explanations were required as to what I was 
looking for along the route to Khotan, and all needful help 
about transport and supplies was readily offered. 

Chang-Darin insisted on treating me to a light kind of lunch 
consisting of only a few plates. In addition to these I had to 
taste a good deal of wine. Fortunately it was not the strong 
Chinese spirit that appeared on Liu-Darin’s table, but a kind 


176 YARKAND AND KARGHALIK [CHAP. x. 


of Madeira, possibly from the Caucasus or the Crimean vine- 
yards. «Two little wine-glasses and proper forks by the side 
of the orthodox eating-sticks also betokened the progressive 
attitude of my host in matters culinary. 

We parted in mutual good feeling, and I utilized the 
occasion to pay a cursory visit to the Bazars. There were 
plenty of shops open, though it was not market day, and I 
was soon able to make the needed purchases in felt materials 
required for my men’s winter outfit. The hills about Kokyar 
are renowned for the ‘ Paipaks’ or felt socks there produced, 
and Karghalik is the great market for them. All the Bazars 
are covered with substantial matting which gives shade for 
the summer and keeps off the glare. Canals neatly bridged 
over cross the Bazars at numerous points, and the luxuriant 
trees that grow by their side give a welcome change of colour. 
Open kitchens or eating-houses were to be met at numerous 
spots, and, as the rush of customers was not great on this 
day, I could conveniently inspect their arrangements. They 
resemble far more those to be found in similar establishments 
of the West than anything that could be seen in an Indian 
town. There were pots and cauldrons kept boiling in regular 
stoves, plates with breads and cakes, dishes of vegetables, &c. 
One of these street restaurants struck me particularly by the 
elaborate floral designs on its whitewashed front walls. 

When I returned to my camp much pleased with the 
stroll I found the Amban already waiting to return my call. 
He had whiled away the time by a careful inspection of my 
camp furniture, which evidently met with his approval, as he 
sent next day a carpenter to take measurements of the neat 
folding table Messrs. Luscombe & Co., of Allahabad, had 
made forme. We talked a good deal about old Hiuen-T'siang 
and his account of the country. I showed Chang-Darin the 
Chinese glossaries attached to Julien’s translation of the 
Si-yu-ki, and the plates of Dr. Hoernle’s publications on the 
antiquities of Khotan and Kucha. The ancient Chinese 


cHap.x.] VISIT OF KARGHALIK AMBAN 177 


coins and the few fragments of Chinese manuscripts there 
depicted excited a good deal of curiosity on the part of my 
visitor. I felt more than ever the disadvantage of my ignorance 
of Chinese, for it was no easy task to give intelligible answers 
to the many queries of my visitor through an interpreter so 
little versed in literary matters as Niaz Akhun. He had, 
however, been to ‘ Bajin’ (Peking), and this supreme achieve- 
ment gave him an air of assurance which made him, if not 
others also, forget the limitations of his intelligence. 

On the morning of the next day there arrived the consign- 
ment of money, sent by Mr. Macartney from Kashgar in 
payment for my drafts on Lahore. My halt at Karghalik 
had been made partly in expectation of it. With the bags of 
Chinese silver coin and the smaller packet of newly-coined 
gold Rouble pieces, Mr. Macartney’s ‘ Chaprassi’ brought 
home letters also. He was to return the next day and carry 
my own mail to Kashgar. So I was kept busy all day with 
letters and with accounts that were to be despatched to 
Government. I sometimes wondered how the Babus of the 
Calcutta office would take to the currency complications 
reflected in my “Monthly Cash Accounts.” The shady 
grove of walnut-trees in front of my tent made a delightful 
Daftar. In the evening I strolled up the bank of the stream 
that flows to the west of the town and got a distant glimpse 
of the hills towards Kékyar. They produce a great quantity 
of wool, and by the side of the stream I came upon a place 
where an enterprising Kashgar trader, who exports to Andijan, 
has an establishment for washing and cleaning the wool. 
The people I met there accounted by these exports for the 
reduced output of felts in the neighbourhood. 

The Ist of October was the Karghalik market, and I had 
decided to wait for it, in the hope that it might bring to the 
town specimens of the curious hill-people known as Phakhpo, 
that live in the valley south of Kékyar. Anthropological 


data regarding them would be most welcome, in view of the 
13 


178 YARKAND AND KARGHALIK [CHAP. X. 


doubts that exist as to their ethnic affinity. From the 
description recorded by members of the Yarkand Mission it 
appears that the Phakhpo in build and features are eminently 
“Aryan”? looking. Yet they are distinct from the Tajiks of 
Sarikol, and are believed to speak a Turki dialect. Their 
small numbers, distant home, and shy habits have so far 
prevented any close observation. I was no luckier in this 
respect, as, notwithstanding the watch kept by the Amban’s 
order, no Phakhpos could be discovered among the market 
crowds. To wait for the arrival of men who might have been 
fetched from their mountains would have meant the delay of 
a week, which I could not afford. 

Instead of these hill-folk the 
day brought another interest- 
ing acquaintance, a travelling 
Buddhist monk from the East 
of China who had begged his 
way through to Aksu and 
‘Khotan and was now again on 
his way northward. He had 
somehow heard of the respect 
IT paid to ‘ Tang-Seng’s’ memory, 
and not unnaturally hoped for 
some help on his onward 
journey. His was evidently 
not a pilgrimage in search of 
sacred sites connected with 
Buddhism. Yet his simple, 


jovial way appealed to me, and 

BUDDHIST MONK FROM CHINA. I was glad to return his gift of 

\ a religious tract, nicely painted 

on red paper, with an offering of silver that sent the humble 
devotee away quite happy and contented. 

I shall always look back with pleasure to the short stay at 

Karghalik, or rather Yetimlukum, as the village is called 


cHAP. x.]| BUDDHIST MONK FROM CHINA L79 


where my camp stood. There was nothing to remind me of 
the neighbourhood of the desert or the equal barrenness of 
the outer hills. As far as the eye could reach over the large 
plots of fields and gardens fertility and plenty reigned. Much 
reminded me of Kashmir—the variety and luxuriant growth 
of the trees, the numerous picturesque Ziarats with shady 
groves hear my camp, and in the Bazars the quaintly carved 
wooden houses. 


CHAPTER XI 
ON THE ROAD TO KHOTAN 


On the morning of the 2nd of October my caravan wended 
its way through the busy little town towards the East gate, 
from whence the road to Khotan starts. On my way I visited 
a large Madrasah called after the Ghujak Masjid, opening on 
one of the principal Bazars. It comprises a large quadrangle 
with rows of vaulted rooms for about 150 students, and at its 
west end an open hall of imposing dimensions. The wooden 
pillars supporting the roof as well as the roof itself are 
painted in lively colours, chiefly shades of red, suggesting the 
polychrome splendour of some classical building. 

Chang-Darin had sent his principal ‘'Tungehi * or interpreter 
to accompany me on my start and bring me his farewell good 
wishes. Within a mile of the Khotan gate where I parted 
from the good-looking old man the caravan road emerges on 
barren desert. A few miles further on this gave way to 
narrow strips of cultivation forming the little oasis of Besh- 
avik, but this was soon traversed, and beyond there received 
us an unmitigated wilderness of gravelly Dasht. The road is 
marked all along by wooden posts erected at short intervals— 
no useless precaution considering how easy it would be for 
the traveller to lose his way at night or in a sandstorm. 
At Kosh Langar, where the day’s march ended, I was sur- 
prised to find in the midst of the barren waste a commodious 


Sarai built of hard-burned bricks, with vaulted rooms and 
180 


CHAP. XI. | ANCIENT DESERT ROUTE 181 


ample out-houses. This building attests the enterprise of 
Niaz Hakim Beg, governor of Khotan in the days of Yaqub 
Beg—the same whose country mansion gave me shelter at 
Yarkand. A tank is provided, into which water flows for one 
day in the week by a small canal brought down from the 
outer hills. A ruined mound of sun-dried bricks, some 30 
feet high, which rises from the desert plain about a mile 
and a half northwards, may possibly mark the remains of a 
Stupa.. But its decay was too far advanced to permit any 
certain conclusion. 

On the 8rd of October my march lay entirely through 
desert ground. To the south the line of outer hills was 
faintly visible through the haze, but no canal or watercourse 
of any kind descends from them to the plain. After the chilly 
nights the heat and glare of the midday hours were very 
perceptible. The dreary route we were now following along 
the southern edge of the great sandy desert, the Taklamakan, 
had for me a special historical interest. It was undoubtedly 
the ancient line that led from the Oxus region to Khotan and 
China. Walking and riding along the track marked here and 
there by the parched carcases and bleached bones of animals 
that had died on it, I thought of travellers in times gone by 
who must have marched through this same waterless, unin- 
habited waste. Hiuen-Tsiang, who travelled here on his way 
back to China, has well described the route. After him it 
had seen Marco Polo and many a less-known medieval 
traveller to distant Cathay. Practically nothing has changed 
here in respect of the methods and means of travel, and thus 
my thoughts could wander back into the past the more readily. 
It is certain that, with the caravans that once trod this sand, 
the Buddhist religion and the elements of Indian as well as 
of classical culture and art travelled to the land of the Sine. 
Shall we ever learn how much they brought back that has 
influenced the civilization of the ancient world ? 

Cholak Langar, which I reached in the early afternoon, has 


182 ON THE ROAD TO KHOTAN [CHAP. XI. 


a Sarai closely resembling that of the preceding station. It 
stands on the edge of a broad, sandy ravine, that descends 
from a gap in the low hill-range south. A large and well-filled 
tank close below the Sarai was the only redeeming feature in 
the bleak landscape. The course of the small watercourse 
that feeds it at times is marked far away northward_by a line 
of low shrubs. In the evening the Chinese clerk in charge of 
the post station came to call on me. He seemed a quiet, 
well-educated man, not over-pleased with his desert sur- 
roundings. He has nine Dak horses and four postmen under 
him to carry letters to Guma and Karghalik. The “mails ”’ 
along the postal routes of the country are ordinarily restricted 
to the official correspondence of the Chinese authorities. My 
visitor told me that he had come two years ago from Urumchi 
with the Karghalik Amban, whose district in Ho-nan was also 
his own. That his village was near to the birth-place of 
‘Tang-Seng,’ i.c., Hiuen-Tsiang, was a piece of information, 
not indifferent to me. So I treated this modest exile to tea 
and cake, and tried to cheer him with the hope of an early 
transfer to a more congenial post. 

The march from Cholak Langar to Guma was reckoned 
a long one, nine ‘ Potais.’ So the camels marched off with 
the heavy baggage by daybreak. My tent and the kitchen 
things going by ponies could start later. While they were 
being packed I strolled into the courtyard of the Sarai, the 
walls of which I found plastered over with official edicts in 
Chinese and Turki. Conspicuous among them was a long 
tri-lingual proclamation, in Chinese, Mongolian, and Turki, 
printed on large sheets of yellow paper. It was an edict in 
the name of the Emperor, referring to the trade intercourse 
with the Russian markets, and had been issued some two 
months before. Niaz Akhun, my interpreter, was eager to 
know whether it was likely to be the last edict of the Emperor, 
whose flight from Peking was being reported all through the 
Bazars. 


CHAP. XI. |} IN GUMA OASIS 183 


After a ten miles’ march over bare gravel and sand Siligh 
Langar was reached, a collection of wretched mud-hovels, 
with a little tank fed by a small watercourse. The tank was 
full and the water flowed away into the sand. Beyond Siligh 
Langar scanty scrub and ‘Kumush’ appeared again and 
covered the sandy soil up to Hajib Langar, another uninviting 
wayside station two and a half miles beyond. Then the ground 
began to show pebble-strewn beds of shallow ravines, and in 
along dark line the trees of the oasis of Guma appeared on 
the horizon. It was a dreary ride of some six miles before 
we struck the river-bed, then dry, that marks the western edge 
of the lands of Guma. Beyond it I passed scattered fields 
and groves half-buried under drifting sand that seems to 
advance from the west, and at last, after riding up a steep 
bank, some 80 to 40 feet high, I was once more amidst 
fertile gardens and fields. Close to a large canal that skirts 
the Bazar of Guma I discovered a camping-ground just as I 
wanted it, in a quiet garden enclosed by a hedge of high 
willows and poplars. While my tent was being pitched I 
rode off again towards the Bazar, where the. weekly market 
was still in full swing. The large crowds buying and selling 
cattle, fruit, cotton stuffs, and other local produce were an 
indication of the extent of the oasis. Over rows of stalls 
high boots of red leather were hanging, an article evidently 
in great demand owing to the approach of winter. 

The 5th of October was given up to a halt needed for 
antiquarian inquiries. Among the purchases of Central-Asian 
antiquities made for the Indian Government by Mr. Macartney 
and other political officers, paper manuscripts and ‘ block- 
prints” in ‘unknown characters’ had since 1895 become 
more and more frequent. These and similar acquisitions, 
which had reached Russian and other public collections in 
Europe, were all supposed to have been unearthed from sand- 
buried sites in the Khotan region. Islam Akhun, the Khotan 
‘“treasure-seeker ’? from whom most of these strange texts 


184 ON THE ROAD TO KHOTAN _ [cuap. Xi. 


were acquired, had in statements recorded at Kashgar by 
Mr. Macartney and subsequently reproduced in Dr. Hoernle’s 
learned report on the Calcutta collection, specified a series of 
localities from which his finds were alleged to have been 
obtained.. Most of these ‘were described as old sites in the 
desert north of the caravan route between Guma and Khotan. 
Information that had reached me at Kashgar helped to 
emphasise the doubts which had previously arisen as to 
the genuineness of his “ finds.’ But it was at Guma that 
I first touched the ground where it was possible to test the 
“ treasure-seeker’s ” statements by direct local inquiries. 

When the local Begs together with the several Yuz-bashis 
of the main villages joined me in the morning, I ascertained that 
there was an extensive débris-covered area known to all as 
a ©Kone-shahr,’ close to the road between Guma and Moji, 
the next oasis eastwards. But nobody had ever heard of the 
discovery of “old books”’ either at this or any other site. Of 
the string of localities named as find-places in the detailed 
itinerary which Islam Akhun had given of one of his desert 
journeys, only two were known to them. As both lay close 
to the oasis it was easy to arrange for their inspection. Riding 
to the north-east with a lively following of Begs and their 
attendants, I soon reached the area of moving sand-dunes 
20 to 80 feet high which encircles Guma from the north. 
Near to the little hamlet of Hasa, passed en route on 
the edge of this area, the dunes had within the memory of 
the villagers encroached considerably on the original holdings. 
A portion of the scattered homesteads was believed also to 
lie buried under the advancing sands. But as they had been 
abandoned only within a comparatively recent period, they 
could never, as my guides sensibly pointed out, have furnished 
antiquities. 

A ride of a little over three miles sufficed to bring me to 
Kara-kul Mazar (‘the Mazar of the Black Lake ’’) which 
figured prominently in Islam Akhun’s itinerary. By the side 


CHAP. XI. | KARAKUL MAZAR 185 


of a little lake of saline water, half-covered by reeds, there 
rises a semicircle of sandhills. On the top of one, the 
customary erection of poles hung with votive rags, yak’s 
tails, and skins, indicates the supposed resting-place of a 
saint. Of his life and deeds I could gather nothing except 
that the holy man came to live here when his beard was black, 
and died here as an ‘ Ak-sakal’ (“‘a white-beard’’). Of the 
vast cemetery round this shrine where Islam Akhun alleged 
that he had made finds of ancient block-prints, I could dis- 
cover no sign. 

The lake is fed by a small rivulet, which flows in a broad, 
tortuous bed about a quarter of a mile eastwards. It rises 
from a series of springs and pools about Hasa, and accordingly 
is known by the name of Kara-su (‘black water ’’); but 
during the spring and early summer it is swelled by flood 
water (‘ak-su’ or ‘‘ white water ’’) when the snow melts on 
the mountains southward. In its bed, which we followed 
for about three miles to the oasis of Karatagh-aghzi, or Kara- 
taghiz, I came for the first time upon the jungle that thrives 
along the watercourses that penetrate into the desert. Reeds 
of various kinds, the hardy ‘ Yulghun’ plant with its heather- 
like small red flowers, and other shrubs filled the dry bed of 
the Kara-su in picturesque confusion. The autumn had already 
turned the leaves of many to various tints of yellow. So 
there was a feast for the eyes, doubly welcome after the dreary 
monochrome view of the Dasht. At Karatagh-aghzi I found 
luxuriant groves of poplar-, mulberry-, and other trees scattered 
among ripe fields of Indian corn. The other produce had 
already been harvested. The part of the cultivated land 
which I saw was said to have been reclaimed only some 
fifteen years ago. The size and luxuriance of the trees that 
had grown up in this short time was a striking illustration of 
the capability of the desert soil if once reached by water. 

From Karatagh-aghzi Islam Akhun alleged that he had 
visited various ruined sites which yielded him “ old books ”’ 


186 ON THE ROAD TO KHOTAN _ [cuap. XI. 


and other strange finds. But the inhabitants, when closely 
questioned, knew nothing of such sites and still less of such 
discoveries. So assured of the negative result of my inquiry 
I turned back to Guma. We took the track across the sand 
to Téwen-Bazar, one of the more northerly villages which 
merges imperceptibly into Guma Bazar. It was pleasant to 
ride in the shady village lanes, with a peep again and again 
into homely little fruit gardens. The profuse growth of 
melons and cucumbers was a characteristic feature of all. 
I passed several open-air paper factories, the pulp, prepared 
from the bark of the mulberry-tree, drying on little sieve-like 
screens. 

I also met a troop of fantastically clad ‘Diwanas,’ or 
beggars, bent apparently on col- 
lecting in alms their share of the 
villagers’ harvest.. The lanes of the 
main Bazar through which I returned 
to camp looked singularly empty 
after the busy life witnessed on the 
preceding market-day. 

When I left my cheerful Guma 
camp on the morning of the 6th of 
October the sky was of radiant 
clearness, with scarcely a trace of 
haze. So when I emerged from the 
shady lanes of the southern part of 
the Guma oasis on the open Dasht 
I was not surprised to find parts of 


MENDICANT, oR ‘ptwana.’ the great snowy range distinctly 

visible. The snows I saw glittering 
far away over the dark lines of the outer mountains evidently 
belonged to the main range about the Karakorum Passes. 
Distances seemed to shrink strangely when I thought that 
behind those stupendous mountain ramparts lay valleys 
draining to the Indus. Mist and clouds hung over other 


CHAP. XI. | SLUPALOE “TOPPA. TIM 187 


parts of the range, and, as the sun rose higher, drew a 
veil also over the ice-covered ridges first sighted. A couple 
of miles further, after crossing a broad but now entirely 
dry river-bed which, lower down, receives the water of the 
Kara-su, I came upon the first of the old sites which earlier 
reports had led me to expect on the march from Guma to 
Moji. All along the right bank of the ravine the ‘ground 
was thickly strewn with fragments of coarse red pottery. 
No ornamented pieces could be found, but the exceptional 
hardness and glaze of these potsherds showed that they 
belonged to a period far removed from the present. The 
extent of the area covered by these scattered fragments 
plainly indicated the site of a large and thickly inhabited 
settlement. But no other trace now remained of its exist- 
ence. The innumerable potsherds invariably rested on the 
bare surface of loess, with never a trace of walls or more 
substantial remains below. 

When to the east of this old site I had crossed the narrow 
belt of irrigated ground occupied by the hamlets of Mokuila 
and was passing once more over a barren scrub-covered Dasht, 
I sighted to the north-east the mound of which my Guma 
informants had spoken as Topa Tim. ‘Tim’ is the desig- 
nation given to all ruined mounds about Kashgar, and as the 
one now within reach looked through my glasses much like an 
ancient Stupa, I made haste to reach it. It proved a longer 
business than I anticipated. For our guide insisted on our 
first following the road towards Moji and crossing the deep- 
cut bed of a watercourse, now dry. I accepted his guidance 
‘much against my instinct, with the tantalizing result that 
when we had got abreast of the mound, after a two miles’ 
ride, a caiion-like ravine absolutely cut us off from it. In 
ain we searched for a place where the perpendicular banks of 
loess would admit of a descent to the bottom of this fissure, 
40 to 50 feet deep. There was nothing for it but to ride back 
to the road and start afresh on the other side. 


188 ON THE ROAD TO KHOTAN [CHAP. XI. 


The Stupa, when at last reached, was a sight that cheered 
my archeological heart. In size and proportion it closely 
resembled the Mauri Tim Stupa near Khanui.. Though its 
exterior had suffered more decay, and an excavation on the 
top showed that it had not escaped the ravages of the 
“treasure-seeker,” it still rose to a height of nearly 29 feet. 
Immediately around the Stupa I found the ground strewn 
with broken bits of ancient pottery, exactly as seen at 
Mokuila and on the great site subsequently traversed. So 
the conclusion seems justified that the habitations which 
these scanty remains indicate belonged, like the Stupa, to 
the Buddhist period. 

On the first attempt to reach Topa Tim on the other side 
of the ravine I had passed a débris-strewn area far more 
extensive than those seen before. Stretching to the north 
of the caravan route it seemed to cover fully three square 
miles. My guides called it the ‘Tati’ of Kakshal.. The 
relics of ancient habitations that lay scattered here in patches 
of varying extent and thickness comprised, besides pottery 
fragments of all sorts: pieces of burned brick, slag, broken bits 
of bone and metal, and similar hard refuse. The conditions 
in which these remains presented themselves appeared at first 
very puzzling. But the examination of similar sites which I 
subsequently traced at many points beyond the limits of the 
present cultivated area in the Khotan region, and which are 
all known by the general name of ‘ Tati,’ gradually furnished 
a convincing explanation. The most striking feature noticed 
at Kakshal, as well as at all other ‘Tatis,’ was that the 
above-named fragments rest on nothing but natural loess, 
either hard or more or less disintegrated into a sandy con- 
dition. It was easy to ascertain that the soil underneath 
contained neither walls nor other structural remains; for 
the small banks of loess which rise here and there from the 
general level of a Tati, sometimes to a height of 10 to 15 feet, 
and on the top of which the fragments usually he thickest, 


CHAP. XI.] DEBRIS-STREWN ‘TATIS’ 189 


invariably displayed on their bare sides the natural soil with- 
out any trace of ancient deposits. 

In the formation of these banks, as in all other features of 
such sites, it was impossible to mistake most striking evidence 
of the erosive action of the winds and sandstorms which sweep 
the great desert and its outskirts for long periods of the spring 
and summer. Only the fragments above described could, by 
the hardness and weight of their material, survive, sinking 
lower and lower as the ground beneath gets more and more 
eroded, while everything in the shape of mud walls, timber, 
&e., as ordinarily used in the construction of Turkestan 
houses, has long ago decayed and been swept away. Even 
the potsherds which have withstood destruction bear plain 
evidence of the slow but continuous onset to which they have 
been exposed, in their small size and in their peculiarly 
rough surface, that looks as if it had been subjected to 
‘ orounding.”’ 

It is evident that such a process of erosion at sites of ancient 
habitations could not have gone on during the long centuries 
since their abandonment without also considerably lowering 
the ground level. But the erosion has not proceeded uniformly 
over an entire area, as shown by the banks of loess already 
referred to, which are now seen rising like small plateaus or 
islands above the more disintegrated parts of a ‘ Tati.’ 
Whether they derived comparative protection from the greater 
abundance of hard débris with which they are ordinarily 
covered, or from some other special feature, it is certain that 
they are most useful to the archeologist as evidence of the 
original ground level. Coins, much corroded metal orna- 
ments, stone seals and similar small objects which can with- 
stand the force of the winds, are occasionally picked up from 
Tatis. A few of the latter situated beyond Guma were found 
to be named in the list of places where Islam Akhun alleged 
he had made his discoveries of paper manuscripts or ‘‘ block- 
prints.” But the examination of the very first sites passed 


190 ON THE’ ROAD TO KHOTAN [CHAP. XI. 


sufficed to show that the physical conditions absolutely 
precluded the possibility of such relics surviving there. 

It was not in the hope of striking finds of this kind that I 
wandered for a long time over the débris-strewn waste of 
Kakshal, though it was getting late and Moji, the end of 
the march, was still far off. There was a weird fascination 
in the almost complete decay and utter desolation of the 
scanty remains that marked once thickly inhabited settle- 
ments. Occupied in the examination of small pottery pieces 
with ornamental design, &c., which my men picked up again 
and again, I found it difficult to tear myself away even when 
the last red rays of the sinking sun had strangely illumined 
the yellow soil and its streaks of reddish-brown pottery. The 
route to which I rode off at last was difficult to see, for 
invading waves of low sand dunes had to be crossed for 
several miles before scrubby ground was reached again near 
the little village of Chudda. The moon had come up by that 
time, and as I was riding comfortably along guided by its light 
I could indulge in reflections regarding the strange places I 
had seen, without risking loss of the track. It was close on 
eight o’clock when I arrived at last at Moji, where my tent 
was ready to receive me. 

On the 7th I was induced to make a halt at Moji by the 
quantity of old coins that were brought to me, almost all of 
an early Muhammadan ruler who calls himself in the legend 
Sulaiman Khagan. The site from which they had been 
obtained, and which I proceeded to examine early in the 
morning, lies only a mile to the north of the village, and 
is known as Toeujai. There I found a number of loess banks 
covered with broken pottery, similar to that seen on the pre- 
vious day, but less affected by erosion; and the now dry 
ravines which the flood water of the early summer had cut 
through them were the place where the old coins had been 
extracted. A number of men had accompanied me from the 
village by the local Beg’s order, and their search soon fur- 


CHAP. XI, | OLD REMAINS AT MOJI 191 


nished me with numerous pieces of pottery showing ornamental 
designs and often glazed in bright colours. In the bed of the 
ravine others set to work to seek for coins, and from the 
burrows they made half a dozen copper pieces were dug out 
in my presence. There can be no doubt that these coins have 
been washed out originally from the same débris layers to which 
the pottery belongs. Thus a clue is gained for the date of the 
latter, which may help in regard to the chronology of other 
sites. With the pottery there is found a great deal of broken 
glass and small bits of jade. Among the former I noticed a 
number of pieces with that iridescence which is so frequent 
in the ancient glassware of the West. The production of glass 
is a long-forgotten art in Turkestan. 

From Togujai I rode to another old site, one and a half 
miles north-east of Moji, known as Hasa, which had already 
attracted Dr. Hedin’s notice. It is undoubtedly a Muham- 
madan cemetery, but there is no clear indication as to its date. 
On a small hillock, from which skulls and skeletons were 
protruding, I found a number of graves covered with wooden 
boards. One of them which I opened showed the remains of 
a child, wrapped in the cotton stuff of the country, and turued 
towards the Qibla in accordance with orthodox practice. 
Though the graves are supposed to be those of Shahids, i.c., 
Musulmans who fell fighting the infidel, the men with me had 
no scruples whatever in exposing their contents—a proof that 
fanatical superstition can have no deep hold on them. The 
sand of the desert has invaded this resting-place, and em- 
phasises its look of desolation. The sky was in full accord 
with the scene, dust-laden and hazy. Of the mountains no 
trace could be seen, though Sanju, whence the Karakorum 
route starts, lies only some twelve miles south of Moji. It 
seems to me probable that Moji occupies the position indi- 
cated by Hiuen-Tsiang for the town of Po-kia-i, where a 
famous Buddha statue brought from Kashmir was worshipped 
in the pilgrim’s time. 


192 ON THE ROAD TO KHOTAN _ [cuap. xt. 


On the 8th of October an easy march of fourteen miles over 
a gravel-covered Dasht with scanty patches of scrub brought 
me to Zanguya. The bed of the stream, which is crossed imme- 
diately before entering the fields of Zanguya, was entirely dry, 
the water being at this season used up for irrigation. Zan- 
euya is a fairly large oasis, counting over five hundred houses 
in its several hamlets. I crossed through a long covered Bazar 
and found beyond it, near the eastern end of the village, a 
pleasant camping-ground in a field of lucerne. In the evening 
I visited an old village site, called Kul-Langar, some two miles 
to the north-west on the edge of the desert. Besides old 
pottery and the like I here found the remains of two large 
tanks still clearly traceable. 

On the 9th I marched to Pialma, some 19 miles from 
Zanguya. The first couple of miles of the road lies through 
irrigated land; but as the water supply is scant, cultivation 
shifts every year in turn to one of the four great plots into 
which the land on this side of the oasis is divided. Were it 
possible to secure more water by storage or otherwise, no 
doubt most of the barren Dasht which lies towards Pialma 
could be brought under cultivation. Light dunes of sand 
appeared again about the middle of the march, and continued 
up to the strip of raised ground appropriately known as 
Bel-kum (“the top sand”). Some miles beyond I sighted the 
ruined mound of Karakir, which proved to be an ancient 
Stupa, much decayed but still holding its own among the high 
dunes of the surrounding drift. The base of the structure 
when intact must have been about 65 feet square. The size 
of the bricks agreed closely with that observed in the Stupa of 
Mauri Tim. 

At Pialma, which is quite a small place, counting only 
about a hundred houses, I reached the last oasis of the 
Karghalik district eastwards. My camp was pitched in a 
little fruit garden, the trees of which were still laden with — 
excellent peaches. For my servants the house of the owner 


CHAP. XI] OASIS OF PIALMA 193 


offered ample room. Felt carpets and mats are quickly 
spread over the raised platforms that surround the principal 
room of these peasant dwellings, and every time I inspected 
my servants’ quarters along the route I was surprised by their 
improvised comfort. Not only the average standard of living, 
but also the housing of the agricultural population of Eastern 
Turkestan, seemed far above the level observed among the 
corresponding class in any part of India. 


14 


CHAPTER XII 
ARRIVAL IN KHOTAN 


A tone march on the 10th of October was to bring me at last 
to the very confines of Khotan. Up to Ak-Langar, the regular 
stage some fourteen miles from Pialma, the route lay over an 
absolutely barren plain of hard loess and gravel. Two half- 
decayed pillars on the road a few miles from Pialma mark the 
boundary between Karghalik and Khotan. At Takhtuwen, 
about half-way, there is a well sunk to a depth of nearly 
200 feet, and at Ak-Langar another, almost equally deep. 
After the long lonely marches on the flat of the desert, I 
hailed with delight the appearance of the mountains which 
from Pialma onwards showed themselves more and more to 
the south, though the light haze hanging over the landscape 
neyer lifted completely. After Ak-Langar sand appeared in 
low dunes forming the semi-lunes so familiar to me from 
Ordam-Padshah. By the time I reached the Mazar of 
Kum-rabat-Padshahim (‘‘ My Lord of the Sands Station ’’) we 
were again in a sea of sand. 

Amid these surroundings the lively scene that presented 
itself at the shrine popularly known as ‘‘ Pigeons’ Sanctuary ”’ 
(Kaptar-Mazar) was doubly cheerful. Several wooden houses 
and sheds serve as the residence for thousands of pigeons, 
which are maintained by the offerings of travellers and the 
proceeds of pious endowments. They are believed to be the 


offspring of a pair of doves which miraculously appeared 
194 


CHAP, XII. ] THE PIGEONS’ SANCTUARY 195 


from the heart of Imam Shakir Padshah, who died here in 
battle with the infidel, i.c., the Buddhists of Khotan. The 
youthful son of one of the Sheikhs attached to the shrine was 
alone present to tell me the story. Many thousands had 
fallen on both sides, and it was impossible to separate the 
bodies of the faithful ‘Shahids’ from those of the ‘ Kafirs.’ 
Then at the prayer of one of the surviving Musulmans the 
bodies of those who had found martyrdom were miraculously 
collected on one side, and the doves came forth to mark the 
remains of the fallen leader. From gratitude, all travellers 
on the road offer food to the holy birds. I too bought some 
bags of Indian corn from the store of the shrine, and scattered 
their contents to the fluttering swarms. 

While watching the pretty spectacle I could not help being 
reminded of what Hiuen-Tsiang tells us of a local cult 
curiously similar at the western border of Khotan territory. 
Some thirty miles before reaching the capital, ‘in the midst 
of the straight road passing through a great sandy desert,” the 
pilgrim describes ‘‘a succession of small hills,’ which were 
supposed to be formed by the burrowing of rats. These rats 
were worshipped with offerings by all the wayfarers, owing to 
the belief that in ancient times they had saved the land from 
a great force of Hiung-nu, or Huns, who were ravaging the 
border. The Khotan king had despaired of defending his 
country, when in answer to his prayer.myriads of rats led by 
a rat-king destroyed over-night all the leather of the harness 
and armour of the invading host, which then fell an easy prey 
to the defenders. 

“The rats as big as hedgehogs, their hair of a gold and 
silver colour,” of which Hiuen-Tsiang wag told as inhabiting 
this desert, are no longer to be seen even by the eyes of the 
pious. But the locality he describes corresponds exactly to 
the position of the ‘ Kaptar-Mazar’ relative to ancient 
Khotan, amidst dunes and low conical sandhills covered 
with tamarisk bushes, while the manner in which the 


196 ARRIVAL IN KHOTAN [CHAP. XII. 


pigeons kept at the shrine are propitiated with food offer- 
ings by all modern wayfarers manifestly marks a survival 
of the Buddhist legend. Just like Hiuen-T'siang’s rats, so 
now the holy pigeons which have taken their place are 
supposed to recall the memory of a great victory. It was in 
fact the first striking instance of that tenacity of local worship 
which my subsequent researches showed for almost all sacred 
sites of Buddhist Khotan. In Kashmir and on the Indus it 
had been no small advantage for me to find the position of 
old Buddhist or Hindu shrines I was in search of marked 
invariably by Muhammadan Ziarats. So I might well take it 
for an auspicious omen that my entry into Khotan territory 
brought me across a pious local custom which the Muham- 
madans of this region had derived from. their Buddhist 
ancestors. 

Three miles beyond this curious shrine the road emerged 
from the sandy billows on to a low-lying marshy plain. 
Here we halted near the solitary hut of Tarbugaz Langar. 
The news of my coming had preceded me from Pialma. So 
late in the evening I received the visit of the Beg of Zawa, 
the next village tract. He was a fine-looking, genial old 
man, and I appreciated his kindly weleome on this my first 
night on the soil of Khotan. Camels and baggage ponies had 
felt the length of the previous day’s march. So I decided to 
divide the remainder of the journey into two short stages. 
Soon after leaving Tarbugaz cultivated ground was entered, 
and three miles from it I passed the mud fort which was 
erected in Yaqub Beg’s time, closing the road to Zawa, the 
first large village of Khotan. 

From there onwards there lay an unbroken succession of 
gardens, hamlets and carefully cultivated fields on both sides. 
The road itself is flanked by shady avenues of poplars and 
willows for almost its whole length. Autumn had just turned 
the leaves yellow and red on most of the trees, and after the 
monotonous khaki of the desert marches this display of 


CHAP, XII. | RURAL ENVIRONS 197 


colour was doubly cheerful. On the road the dust lay ankle 
deep. It was easy to realise the vicinity of a great trade 
centre from the lively traffic which passed us. I saw strings 
of donkeys carrying ‘ Zhubas,’ the lambskin coats for the 
manufacture of which Khotan is famous. Few, indeed, were 
the passers-by that did not ride on some kind of animal— 
pony, donkey, or bullock. To proceed to any distance on foot 
must seem a real hardship even to the poorer classes. No 
wonder that the people see no reason to object to the 
ridiculously high heels of their top boots. When riding the 
inconvenience cannot be felt. But to see the proud 
possessors of such boots waddle along the road when obliged 
to use their legs is truly comical. 

Some seven miles from Zawa I passed the stony bed of the 
Kara-kash (‘‘ Black-jade’’) Darya, the second main river of 
Khotan. Its bed, fully three-quarters of a mile broad, 
betokened the great volume of water it carries down in the 
summer from the glaciers towards the Karakorum. But at 
this season the river, diminished no doubt by the demands of 
irrigation, finds room in a single channel, about 30 yards 
broad and 1 to 2 feet deep. I was delighted to come at a 
distance of about a mile and a half beyond upon a second 
river-bed, that of a branch of the Kara-kash known as the 
Yangi-Darya, “‘ the New River.” Whatever the age of the 
designation may be, the position of this bed agrees most 
accurately with the accounts which Chinese historical records 
give as to the rivers west of the old capital of Khotan. The 
site of *‘ Borazan,” which I knew to contain in all probability 
the remains of this ancient capital, lay too far off the road to 
be visited immediately. 

In one of the hamlets of Sipa, east of the ‘‘ New River,” I 
found a garden that offered a quiet camping-ground. While 
watching the unloading of my baggage I was not a little 
surprised by the appearance from a neighbouring house of a 
man chained by the neck to a heavy iron rod of almost his 


198 ARRIVAL IN KHOTAN [CHAP, XII. 


own length. It was a cultivator who had been sentenced to 
this punishment some months ago for grievously assaulting a 
neighbour. Cruel as the weight of the chain looked, I could 
not help thinking that the mode of punishment had_ its 
practical advantages. Instead of being imprisoned the man 
could remain with his family and follow any occupation not 
requiring quick movements. At the same time the sight of 
the inconvenient appendage he has to carry must act as a 
sufficient deterrent to others, and the guilt of the culprit is 
constantly brought to notice. 

On the morning of the 18th of October I was just about to 
start from my camp at Yokakun for Khotan when the Beg 
arrived whom the Amban, on hearing of my approach, had 
deputed to escort me. The Beg was in his Chinese gala garb 
and had his own little retinue. So we made quite a cavalcade, 
even before Badruddin Khan, the head of the Afghan mer- 
chants in Khotan and a large trader to Ladak, joined me a few 
miles from Khotan town with some of his fellow-countrymen. 
T rode round the bastioned walls of the great square fort that 
forms the ‘“‘ New City” of the Chinese, and then through the 
outskirts of the ‘‘Old City”? to the garden belonging to 
Tokhta Akhun, a rich merchant, which Badruddin Khan had 
previously taken up for my residence. The narrow Bazars 
passed on the way were more than usually squalid. The 
number of people afflicted with diseases whom I saw in them 
was also depressing. In the garden which lay close to the 
southern edge of the suburb of Gujan I found a large though 
somewhat gloomy house, but none of the attractions of my 
Yarkand residence. The maze of little rooms all lit from the 
roof and badly deficient in ventilation could not be used for 
my own quarters. Outside in the garden there was a pic- 
turesque wilderness of trees and bushes, but little room for a 
tent and still less of privacy. So after settling down for the 
day and despatching my messages and presents for the Amban, 
I used the few remaining hours of daylight for a reconnaissance 


cHaPp. xu.] CAMP IN RESIDENTIAL GARDENS 199 


that was to show me the immediate environs, and also a more 
congenial camping-ground. 

There is a charm about the ease with which, in these parts, 
one may invade the house of any one, high or low, sure to 
find a courteous reception, whether the visit is expected or 


otherwise. So when after a long ride through suburban lanes 
and along the far-stretching lines of mud-built fortifications 


HOUSE OF TOKHTA AKHUN, KHOTAN,. 


erected after the last revolt against the Chinese, but already 
crumbling into ruin, I came about half a mile from Tokhta 
Akhun’s upon another residential garden, enclosed by high 
walls and surrounded by fields, I did not hesitate to have 
my visit announced to the owner. Through a series of courts 
I entered a large and airy reception hall, and through it passed 
into a large open garden that at once took my fancy. Akhun 
Beg, a fine-looking, portly old gentleman, received me like a 


200 ARRIVAL IN KHOTAN [CHAP. XII. 


guest, and when informed of the object of my search readily 
offered me the use of his residence. I had disturbed him in 
the reading of a Turki version of Firdusi’s Shahnama. My 
acquaintance with the original of the great Persian epic 
seemed to win for me at once the goodwill of my impromptu 
host, and I hesitated the less about accepting his offer. So 


PAN-DARIN, AMBAN OF KHOTAN, WITH PERSONAL ATTENDANTS. 


when next morning my tent was pitched on the lawn in front - 
of a shady clump of trees, I again enjoyed the peace and 
seclusion of a country residence. 

At noon I paid my first visit to Pan-Darin, the Amban, 
after the usual preliminaries required by Chinese etiquette. I 
found him a quiet, elderly man, with features that seemed to 
betoken thoughtfulness and honesty of purpose. His kindly 


CHAP. x11.] FIRST MEETING WITH PAN-DARIN 201 


though somewhat abstracted look and his gentle manners of 
gesture and speech impressed me from the first as entirely in 
agreement with the reputation for learning and piety which 
has followed this Mandarin wherever he was employed in the 
province. Dressed in his state clothes and surrounded by 
numerous attendants, Pan-Darin received me with every mark 
of attention. He had long before been informed from Kashgar 
of the objects of my visit, and I was curious to see what his 
attitude would be, both as to explorations in the desert and 
my proposed survey of the mountains about the sources of the 
Khotan river. 

To my delight there was no trace of obstruction to be 
discovered in what Pan-Darin had to tell me as to either 
project. He had no doubt that ancient places amidst the 
dreaded sands of the ‘ Gobi,’ if they existed at all, were 
difficult to reach, and that the statements made about them 
by natives were not to be trusted too readily. In the moun- 
tains again the routes were bad, implying hardships and 
risks, and beyond the valleys of Karanghu-tagh there lay the 
unknown uplands of Tibet where Chinese authority ceased, 
and where, under the strict orders of the Tsung-li-Yamen, no 
assistance was to be rendered to travellers. But apart from 
these natural difficulties and political limitations Pan-Darin 
offered to give me all help that lay in his power. The 
Amban’s simple, earnest ways, his evident comprehension of 
the scientific objects in view, and the scholarly interest with 
which he followed my explanations about Hiuen-Tsiang’s 
travels and the old Buddhist culture of Khotan, induced me to 
put reliance in this promise of help. And subsequent ex- 
perience showed me how well it was justified. Without his 
ever ready assistance neither the explorations in the desert nor 
the survey work in the mountains which preceded it could have 
been accomplished. 

As soon as I had arrived in Khotan I had commenced the 
local inquiries which were to guide me as to ancient sites 


202 ARRIVAL IN KHOTAN [CHAP. XII. 


particularly deserving exploration and as to the best means for 
organising a systematic search for antiquities. Apprehensions 
about possible forgeries had prevented me from sending in 
advance to Khotan information as to the main object of my 
journey. I now found that some time would have to be 
allowed for the collection of specimens of antiquities from the 
various old sites which ‘‘ treasure-seekers’’ were in the habit 
of visiting. ‘‘ Treasure-seeking,”’ 7.e., the search for chance 
finds of precious metal within the areas of abandoned settle- 
ments, has indeed been a time-honoured occupation in the 
whole of the Khotan oasis, offering like gold-washing and 
jade-digging the fascinations of a kind of lottery to those low 
down in luck and averse to any constant exertion. In recent 
years, owing to the continued demand of European collectors 
from Kashgar and elsewhere, the small fraternity of quasi- 
professional treasure-seekers had learned on their periodical 
visits to ancient sites to pay attention also to antiquities as 
secondary proceeds. Nevertheless, all the information that 
could be elicited about such localities, even from persons who 
seemed reliable, was exceedingly vague, and I soon realised 
that if I were to set out without having before me specimens 
distinctly traceable to specific sites, much valuable time might 
be lost and labour wasted. In order to secure such specimens, 
Badruddin Khan, who had previously rendered useful services 
to Mr. Macartney, offered to organise and send out small 
‘‘ prospecting ’’ parties. Their return, however, could not be 
expected before a month, and I decided to utilise this interval 
for the interesting geographical task which I had already 
marked out for myself in the mountains south of Khotan. 
That portion of the Kuen-luen range which contains the 
headquarters of the Yurung-kash or Khotan: River had 
hitherto remained practically unsurveyed, the scanty informa- 
tion available being restricted to the sketch map of the route 
by which Mr. Johnson, in 1865, had made his way from 
Ladak down to Khotan. Colonel Trotter had, in 1875, ex- 


CHAP. xu1.] PREPARING FOR THE MOUNTAINS — 203 


pressed the belief that the head waters of the Yurung-kash 
were much further to the east than shown on that map, and 
probably identical with a stream rising on the plateau south of 
Polu. Captain Deasy, working from the side of Polu in 1898, 
succeeded in reaching the sources of this stream at an eleva- 
tion of over 16,000 feet, but was prevented from following it 
downwards. Thus the true course of the main feeder of the 
Yurung-kash, together with most of the orography of the 
surrounding region, still remained to be explored. 

The close approach of winter made me anxious to set out 
for this task with as little delay as possible, while it was 
necessary to equip properly the men as well as the ponies that 
were to accompany me, for the cold mountain region to be 
visited. My camels could be of no use in that direction, 
and extra ponies were needed for the bageage with which I 
was to move up, greatly reduced as it was. The animals of 
the ‘ Kirakash’ or professional caravan men were all away on 
the Karakorum route, where the autumn months are the busy 
time for the trade with Ladak. To buy ponies for this com- 
paratively short tour would have been an expensive arrange- 
ment. So I felt glad when the Amban, on returning my visit 
the next day, issued orders to supply me with the transport 
needed on hire from neighbouring villages. 

While Badruddin Khan busied himself with procuring the 
fur-clothing for my men and the felt covers for the ponies, I 
managed to pay a visit to the village of Yotkan, the site of 
the old capital of Khotan and a well-known find-place of 
antiquities of all sorts. It was an interesting day I spent at 
that locality, where the accumulated débris layers of the old 
city, embedded deep below the present level, are being 
regularly washed for gold, and in the course of these opera- 
tions yield up also ancient pottery, coins, seals, and similar 
remains. But I need not here detail the impressions of that 
first hurried visit ; for subsequent investigations were to render 
me far more familiar with this important site. 


204 ARRIVAL IN KHOTAN [CHAP. XII. 


During the few days of my stay at Khotan much of my time 
was taken up with the inspection of the coins, terra-cotta 
figures, and other antiquities that were brought for sale 
by villagers and “treasure-seekers.” Most of the bagfuls 
contained only the broken pottery and copper coins found so 
plentifully at Yotkan, and already fairly well known from 
previously formed collections. But their inspection was a 
useful training to me, and I thought it advisable to make at 
first ample purchases so as to stimulate the zest of professional 
searchers. 

I was naturally on the look-out too for those ‘ old books ”’ 
written or ‘ block-printed”’ in a variety of unknown characters 
which, as already mentioned, had during the last five or six 
years been sold from Khotan in increasing numbers to 
European collectors at Kashgar. In regard to these acqui- 
sitions the suspicion of forgery had before presented itself to 
competent scholars, but evidence was wanting to substantiate 
it, and in the meantime these strange texts continued to be 
edited and analysed in learned publications. Offers in this 
article were surprisingly scanty at Khotan itself, and curiously 
enough the very first ‘old book” that was shown to me 
supplied unmistakable proof of forgery. Hearing of my 
presence at the place, a Russian Armenian from Kokand 
brought me for inspection a manuscript on birch-bark, con- 
sisting of some ten ragged leaves covered with an ‘ unknown ” 
script. He had bought it for forty roubles, undoubtedly as a 
commercial speculation, and now wished to have his treasure 
properly appraised. 

I saw at once that the birch-bark leaves had never received 
the treatment which ancient Bhurja manuscripts, well known 
to me from Kashmir, invariably show. Nor had the forger 
attempted to reproduce the special ink which is needed for 
writing on birch-bark. So when I applied the “ water test ” 
the touch of a wet finger sufficed to take away the queer “‘ un- 
known characters”? both written and block-printed. It was 


CHAP. XII.] SUSPECTED FORGERIES 205 


significant that the “‘ printed matter’ of this manifest forgery 
showed a close resemblance to the formulas of certain ‘ block- 
prints’ contained in the Calcutta collection. In fact, my 
inquiries indicated a close connection between the person 
from whom the Armenian had purchased the leaves and 
Islam. Akhun, the treasure-seeker whose alleged places of 
discovery I had vainly endeavoured to locate about Guma. 
Local rumour credited Islam Akhun with having worked a 
small factory for the production of ‘old books.’’ But at 
this time he was keeping away from Khotan, and there were 
reasons to postpone personal investigations about him. 

On the day preceding my start for the mountains I was 
cheered by the opportune arrival of my Dak from Yarkand. 
The contents of my home mails, despatched via India, did not 
come down later than the 17th of August. But the evening 
before I had received a letter sent to Kashgar through the 
Russian post and thence forwarded with the official Chinese 
Dak, which had been written as recently as the 19th of 
September. No more convincing proof is needed of the 
comparative proximity to which the advance of the Russian 
railway system has brought even this distant corner of 
Turkestan, described by Sir Henry Yule in 1865 as ‘the 
most inaccessible and least known of Asiatic States.’’ The 
quotation is from the great scholar’s “ Cathay and the Way 
Thither,”” a work which followed me everywhere on my 
travels, and the reading of which never failed to provide 
both learned guidance and amusement. 


MUZTAGH PEAK, IN KUEN-LUEN RANGE. 


CHAPTER XIII 
TO THE HEADWATERS OF THE YURUNG-KASH 


Av midday of the 17th of October I set out for my journey into 
the mountains, after taking a friendly leave of Akhun Beg, 
my white-haired host. A five rouble gold piece, presented in 
a little steel purse, as a return for the use of his garden, 
was accepted without much difficulty. I was glad to leave 
behind in Badruddin’s care all stores and other articles not 
immediately needed. Neyertheless our baggage, including 
the survey instruments and food supplies for a full month, 
required ten ponies. The first march was luckily a short and 
easy one. For about six miles we proceeded south through 
cultivated land, dotted with hamlets, to the village of Jamada, 
not far from the left bank of the Yurung-kash. Beyond it 
the bare Dasht rises gently towards the foot of the mountains, 
which now stood clear of the haze that had veiled them at 
Khotan. . | 

On the sandy plain south of Jamada I found a ‘ Tati’ 
with relics of ancient settlement. Fragments of pottery are 
strewn over the site, and some villagers brought me old coins, 


beads, and a few small seals, one showing the figure of a 
206 


CHAP. xur.] DEBOUCHURE OF YURUNG-KASH = 207 


Cupid. We then rode for four miles over the high banks of 
stone and gravel which the river has brought down from its 
course in the mountains, and at last crossed to the right bank. 
The bed of the Yurung-kash is over a mile broad at this 
point, but the water flowed only in a few narrow channels. 
The rest is diverted into the canals that feed the villages of 
the eastern part of the Khotan oasis. Our night’s quarters 
were at Bizil, a small village close to the river-bed, where 
many burrows and pebble heaps showed the working of jade- 
seekers. The stone, which has from ancient times been so 
highly prized in China, and to which the river owes its name, 
‘“* White-jade,” is still an important product. As I crossed 
the river-bed I thought of the distant lands to which it has 
carried the name of Khotan. 

Beyond Bizil, to the south, low, undulating slopes of much- 
decayed conglomerate ascend towards the mountains. Over 
these we travelled on the morning of the 18th of October. 
Several ridges, fairly steep on the north side but joined by 
almost level terraces on the south, form natural steps in the 
ascent. Gravel and coarse sand, with scarcely a trace of vege- 
tation, covers the ground; and the landscape, save for the 
distant view of the Khotan oasis below, was one of complete 
desolation. When the last of the steps was crossed by the 
Tashlik-Boyan Pass, I found myself in full view of the outer 
ranges through which the Yurung-kash flows in a tortuous 
gorge, and greeted with relief some snowy peaks that raised 
their heads above them, far away to the south. A long 
descent over a sandy slope brought us to the Kissel Stream, 
along which our onward route lay. Half smothered by the 
dust that the ponies raised as they scrambled down, we 
reached the bottom of the valley at the little hamlet of Kumat. 
A narrow strip of level ground by the side of the Kissel and 
irrigated from it, supports some fifteen families. It was soon 
dark in the deep and narrow glen, and the four miles we had 
to march to Yangi-Langar, our night quarters, seemed very 


208 HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH [cuap. xu. 


long. The night air was still and warmer than in the plain 
of Khotan, the thermometer showing 48° F. at 8 p.m. 

On the 19th of October a march of some eighteen miles up 
the winding gorge of the Kissel brought us to Tarim-Kishlak. 
On the whole way there was no habitation, nor indeed room 
for one. The rough path crossed innumerable times the 
stream that flows between high and precipitous spurs of 
conglomerate and what looked to me like sandstone. In more 
than one place there was a difficulty in getting the laden 
ponies over the rocks that fill the narrow bottom of the gorge. 
As this jumbled mountain mass has never been surveyed, it 
was tantalising to wind along between the rocky walls without 
a chance of an open view. But there was no time to be lost 
with climbs to points that might give one. Tarim-Kishlak 
(‘cultivated holding’’) consists of a single miserable mud 
dwelling amid a few fields of oats. Apart from the small 
patch of sloping ground that is irrigated from the stream, 
there is nothing around but decayed rock and ravines filled 
with gravel. Compared to the absolute barrenness of these 
hill-sides, the vegetation of the Hunza or Sarikol glens would 
look quite luxuriant. 

On the morning of the 20th of October I found the little 
stream, by the side of which my tent was pitched, half 
covered with ice. The boiling-point thermometer indicated an 
elevation of close on 9,000 feet, and the air at 7 a.m. was just 
at freezing-point. The gorge we ascended continued for 
another eight miles in a south-easterly direction. Then the 
path leaves the stream which comes from a high mountain 
capped with snow, and strikes upa dry side gorge to the south. 
Here all trace of rock disappeared from the surface of the 
hill-sides. Loose earth and detritus was alone to be seen, 
with scanty patches of hardy scrub. Before we reached the 
pass, a strong wind sprung up that overcast the sky with 
clouds and shrouded us in dust. So when at last by 2 p.m. 
we stood on the Ulugh-Dawan (‘‘ High Pass’’), the distant 


CHAP. x.] CROSSING OF ULUGH-DAWAN 209 


view to the south was seen through a haze. All the same, 
when I had climbed with the Sub-Surveyor a ridge rising about 
500 feet above the pass, we were rewarded by the sight of a 
grand glacier-girt mountain rising in solitary splendour to 
the south-east. It was impossible to mistake the “‘ Kuen-luen 
Peak, No. 5,” which the tables of the Indian Trigonometrical 
Survey showed with a height of 23,890 feet. Right and left 
of it stretched a chain of ice mountains, but their crests were 
hidden in clouds, and our endeavour to recognize among them 
other peaks fixed from the southern side was in vain. The 
wind on the pass was cutting and the temperature close to 
freezing-point. By boiling-point thermometer we found the 
height to be over 12,000 feet. 

I was glad to leave by 4 p.m. the cheerless ridge. The 
descent into the Buya Valley, which runs from east to west 
draining by an inaccessible gorge into the Yurung-kash, was 
very steep and trying. The bleak mountain-side is fissured by 
narrow ravines, and the path follows the ridges between them. 
The landscape looked wild and lifeless in the extreme. It was 
quite dark before we had extricated ourselves from the rocky 
ledges that project from the decomposed slopes and lead 
ladder-like down to the valley. With some difficulty our 
guide found the way to the main group of huts of Buya, but 
the straggling baggage animals were much belated, and I had 
to sit till midnight in a smoky mud hovel before my tent was 
pitched and my dinner ready. 

Next morning when I rose I found to my delight that the 
sky had completely cleared. In order not to lose the good 
chance for survey work, I decided to push on to Pisha, though 
men as well as animals seemed in need of a day’s rest. The 
valley of Buya, about a mile broad at the principal hamlet, 
supports from its scanty fields of oats a population of thirty 
odd holdings. The level of our camp was close on 8,000 feet. 
To the south of the valley rises a series of plateaus showing 


on the surface only detritus and gravel, with conical hills 
15 


210 HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH [cuap. xmr. 


crowning them at intervals. When we had climbed the crest 
of the nearest plateau the whole of the great snowy range 
towards Ladak and the westernmost border of Tibet lay spread 
out before us. Over the whole chain towered the great Kuen- 
luen Peak already referred to, with its glaciers now clearly 
visible. The Un-bashi (‘head of Ten’’) of Buya, an 
uncouth looking hillman or ‘ Taghlik,’ knew the peak only 
by the name of ‘Muz-tagh’ (‘‘ the Ice-mountain’’). Apart 
from the glittering wall of snow and ice in the far south, there 

was nothing to be seen before us but the yellowish slopes of the 
plateaus that mark where transverse ridges must once have risen. 
The extremes of temperature, and possibly the excessive dry- 
ness of the climate, with the consequent absence of vegetation, 
may partly account for the extraordinary disintegration of the 
soil. In colour and outlines the near view reminded me of the 
hill ranges that are seen when passing along the Egyptian 
coast of the Gulf of Suez. The plateaus are separated by 
broad depressions in which tiny streams of saltish water try to 
make their way towards the Yurung-kash. Except when the 
snow melts on the distant mountains eastwards, there is no 
moisture to fill these ravines. 

Thus we marched for about ten miles to the south-west, 
glad that the ground offered no difficulty to the tired ee 
From a high ridge that crowns the last plateau southwards, I 
sighted the broad and partly cultivated valley of Pisha, and on 
its other side the ridge that still separated us from Karanghu- 
tagh, the last inhabited valley at the northern foot of the 
Kuen-luen, our immediate goal. At 5 p.m. I arrived at 
Kul-dobe, the main hamlet of the Pisha Valley, where two 
dozen or so of Taghliks were assembled to welcome me. 
There seemed little in their speech or manners to distinguish 
them from the people of Khotan. But their sheepskin coats 
and hard weather-beaten faces indicated the difference of the 
climatic conditions. Many among them had never seen the 
plains. Harsh and bare of all graces are their surroundings. 


CHAP. XIII, | VALLEY OF PISHA ALL 


I wondered whether they ever see flowers such as carpet the 
Pamir grazing-grounds. 

The 22nd of October was needed as a day of rest for men 
and beasts, and I was glad to grant it in a locality where 
there was at least plenty of shelter. The sky was heavy with 
clouds, and cold blasts swept up the valley from time to time, 
enveloping it in a haze of dust. After a morning spent over 
notes and letters I went for a walk along the stream through 
cheerless fields and with nothing in view but the bare grey 
spurs that line the valley. On my return I found the whole 
grown-up male population of Pisha assembled in the courtyard 
of the mud dwelling where my men had established themselves. 
It seemed that for many years past Pisha had known no such 
time of excitement and novel interest. In Hakim Shah, the 
oldest man of the valley and father of the local Yuzbashi, I 
found an intelligent interlocutor. He claimed an age of fully 
a hundred years, and his wrinkled face and snowy hair seemed 
to support his assertion. Though bent by the burden of his 
years, the old man was still active enough in mind, and he 
talked glibly of the days of early Chinese rule before the 
Muhammadan revolt. He had once in his life been to 
Khotan, and was evidently in the eyes of his people a man 
well-up in the affairs of the world. 

My men had been told that a difficult and long march lay 
before us. So on the morning of the 28rd they were quicker 
than usual about the start. When I got outside my tent a 
little after six o’clock I saw to my delight a gloriously clear 
sky. The cold was also a surprise. Even at 7 a.m. the 
thermometer showed 23° F.; the little watercourse near my 
tent was hard frozen. As soon as we had climbed the edge of 
the plateau some 500 feet above Pisha, a grand view opened 
out upon the whole ice-crowned range. Kuen-luen Peak No. 5 
now lay in full view to the south-east, and its glacier-crowned 
head appeared quite close in the absolutely clear atmosphere. 
For about eight miles we rode over a broad, barren plateau that 


912 HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH  [cuap. xin. 


rose with an easy gradient towards the south. Then I turned 
off the track and climbed a high ridge eastwards that from a 
distance promised a good surveying station. 

Its height, 13,950 feet above the sea, commanded a 
panorama more impressive than any I had enjoyed since I 
stood on the slope of Muztagh-Ata. To the east there rose 
the great Kuen-luen Peak with its fantastic ridges separated 
by glittering glaciers and its foot rising from a belt of strangely 
eroded bare ridges, as shown by the photograph at the head of 
this chapter. By its side the gorge of the main branch of the 
Yurung-kash could clearly be made out as it cuts through the 
series of stupendous spurs that trend northwards from the 
main snowy range of the Kuen-luen. From the latter the 
ereat peak was thus entirely separated—an interesting obser- 
vation fully in accord with the orography of the Karakorum 
and Hindukush. There it has long ago been remarked that 
the points of greatest elevation are not to be found on the 
actual watershed, but on secondary spurs detached from it. 

The deep-cut valleys and serrated ridges descending from 
the main range presented a most striking contrast to the flat, 
worn-down features of the plateaus behind us. To the west 
the course of the Yurung-kash was lost in a jumble of rocky 
walls that gradually sank away towards the plain. In the 
north there showed itself as one unbroken mass the gaunt 
conglomerate range which we had crossed on the way to Buya, 
culminating in a broad, snow-covered peak, the Tikelik-tagh, 
some distance to the east of the Ulugh-Dawan. Nature 
could not have created a better survey-station than the ridge 
on which I stood. With the enjoyment of the grand 
panoramic view there mingled the satisfaction of seeing so 
large and interesting a tract hitherto unsurveyed suddenly 
spread out before me as if it were a map. While Ram Singh 
worked away at his plane-table I was busily engaged in taking 
a complete circle of views with the photo-theodolite. Not- 
withstanding the perfectly blue sky it was bitterly cold on 


CHAP. XIII. | PRECIPITOUS DESCENT 213 


that height, as my fingers soon felt in handling the delicate 
instrument. 

It was nearly three o’clock before our work was done, and I 
was able to hurry down hill. I had noticed how distant the 
valley of Karanghu-tagh was where we were to finish the day’s 
march, and the guides from Pisha had, with unwonted anima- 
tion, dwelt on the badness of the track leading to it. After a 
comparatively easy descent of two miles we reached the line 
where the high plateau so far followed falls off towards the 
Yurung-kash Valley in a series of precipitous ravines. The 
one which the track follows at first looked exactly like the 
gorges I had seen in Astor leading down to the Indus. High 
rock-faces lined its sides, and the withering effects of atmo- 
spheric influences seemed here less marked than on the ranges 
passed northward. At an elevation of about 11,000 feet the 
path crossed a rocky neck eastwards, and then led down 
precipitously to the river flowing more than 3,000 feet below. 

It was just getting dark as we began this trying part of the 
descent, but- even if it had been broad daylight it would have 
been impossible to ride. The angle at which the path zigzags 
down the precipitous cliff was so steep that the ponies could 
be dragged forward only with difficulty. The loose stones that 
cover the path increased the trouble, while the deep dust in 
which they are embedded at times almost smothered us. 
Never had I marched in such a dust-cloud as that which 
enveloped us until, after an hour and a half’s scramble, the 
bottom of the valley was reached at the point where the 
Yurung-kash is joined by the Kash stream flowing out from 
the side valley of Karanghu-tagh. 

It was perfectly dark when we crossed to the left bank of 
the Yurung-kash by a rickety bridge consisting of three badly 
joined beams laid over a chasm some 70 feet wide. The foam 
of the river tossing deep down in the narrow bed of rocks 
could be made out even in the darkness. In daylight, and in 
a less tired condition, the crossing might have affected one’s 


214 HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH  [cuap. xin. 


nerves more. As it was, I felt heartily glad when I saw the 
ponies safely on the other side. Karanghu-tagh means 
‘Mountain of blinding darkness,” 
approach the appropriateness of the name could not have been 
doubted. For about an hour we and our tired beasts groped 
our way between the boulder-strewn bank of the Kash stream 
and the foot of steep hill-slopes before we reached at last the 
village that bears that cheerful name. The baggage had 
arrived safely, but also with great delay, and thus it was late 
in the night before I could retire to rest. 

The 24th of October was spent at Karanghu-tagh, where 
arrangements had to be made for men and yaks to take us 
further into the mountains. The survey of the previous day 
had shown me that the only way by which the source of the 
main branch of the Khotan River might possibly be approached 
would lie in the gorge of the river itself. The Yuzbashi and 
the old men of the little village, whom I summoned in the 
morning, at first denied stoutly that the valley of the Yurung- 
kash was accessible beyond the point where we had crossed it. 
By-and-bye, however, I elicited the fact that there were 
summer grazing-grounds in some of the nullahs descending 
from Muztagh, and then the fact of their being reached by a 
track up the Yurung-kash had to be acknowledged. Of a route 
across the main range south, by which Mr. Johnson appears to 
have come on his rapid descent from Leh to Khotan in 1865, 
I could get absolutely no information. It was evident that 
the hill-men feared the trouble and exposure of a tour in those 


and at the time of our 


high regions. At the same time the serious and very puzzling 
discrepancies I discovered between the sketch-map of Mr. 
Johngon’s route and the actual orography of the mountains 
south of Pisha convinced me that I could not dispense with 
local guidance. My interest, however, lay eastwards where 
the course of the Yurung-kash was to be traced. After a 
time Islam Beg, a young and energetic attendant of the 
Khotan Yamen, whom Pan-Darin had despatched with me, 


CHAP. XIII. | A PENAL SETTLEMENT Palle 


succeeded in making it clear to the surly Taghliks that the 
Amban’s order for assistance to me must be obeyed. So those 
who rule Karanghu-tagh set about to collect the yaks which 
were to take on my baggage and the men who were to 
accompany me. 

It was no difficult task, for Karanghu-tagh, though hidden 
away amid a wilderness of barren mountains, is a place of 
some resources. When I inspected it in the morning I was 
surprised to find a regular village of some forty closely packed 
houses. The scanty fields of oats below and above could 
scarcely support this population. But Karanghu-tagh is also 
the winter station for the herdsmen who graze flocks of yaks 
and sheep in the valleys of the Upper Yurung-kash. These 
herds belong mostly to Khotan ‘ Bais,’ or merchants, and 
the visits of the latter seem the only tie that connects this 
strangely forlorn community with the outer world. From 
time to time, however, Karanghu-tagh receives a permanent 
addition to its population in the persons of select malefactors 
from Khotan, who are sent here for banishment. 

It would indeed be difficult to find a bleaker place of exile. 
A narrow valley shut in between absolutely bare and pre- 
cipitous ranges, without even a view of the snowy peaks, must 
appear like a prison to those who come from outside. It was 
strange to hear the hill-men, who during the summer lead a 
solitary life in the distant glens, speak of Karanghu-tagh as 
their ‘Shahr’ or ‘‘ town.” For these hardy sons of the 
mountains this cluster of mud-hovels, with its few willows 
and poplars, represents, no doubt, an enviable residence. 
To me the strange penal settlement somehow appeared far 
more lonely and depressing than the absolute solitude of the 
mountains. 

I was glad to start soon on a climb to one of the steep 
ridges north-east of the village, which offered a convenient 
station for further survey work. But the day was far less 
clear than the preceding one, and the views too were less 


216 HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH [cuap. x10. 


inspiriting. On my retun I passed the cemetery of 
Karanghu-tagh. The number of tombs it contains may, in 
view of the very scanty population (barely amounting to 
200 souls), be taken as a sign of long-continued occupation. 
There were plenty of decayed little domes of mud and wooden 
enclosures marking graves. Over them rose high staffs, 
invariably hung with ayak’s tail. Icounted also two mosques 


TAGHLIKS AND EXILED CRIMINALS AT KARANGHU-TAGH. 


in the place, and half-a-dozen simple Mazars, where a bundle 
of sticks bedecked with rags and yak’s tails marks the reputed 
resting-place of some holy man. I could well believe that the 
dreariness of their earthly surroundings might turn the minds 
of the dwellers in this gloomy vale to a happier world beyond. 

The information extracted with no little trouble from the 
Yiizbashi of Karanghu-tagh and his people about a route 
up the main valley of the Yurung-kash was by no means 


cHaP. xi.) START FROM KARANGHU-TAGH 217 


encouraging. They acknowledged that a little settlement 
existed in the Omsha Jilga, one march up the main valley, and 
that a path accessible to yaks led beyond to a point where a 
hot spring flows into the river. But after this no possible 
track could be found through the mountains. Whether this 
was true or not could be made certain only by personal 
inspection. Yaks were to carry the indispensable baggage 
and to serve as riding animals for myself and my men. The 
ponies which had been severely tried by the preceding marches 
were to remain at Karanghu-tagh in charge of Niaz Akhun, 
the Chinese interpreter. He had complained of the hardships 
previously experienced. It was easier for me to part with 
him than with ‘ Yolchi Beg,’ my little terrier. He had 
bravely kept up so far, but the long marches had evidently 
told on him, and a rest would give him fresh strength for the 
fatigues still before us. 

By 10 a.m. on the 25th of October the yaks were packed and 
the caravan was ready to start. With each animal I took a 
hill-man to guide it. Yaks are as sluggish as they are sure- 
footed, and without a man to drag each animal by the rope 
which is passed through its muzzle the rate of progress would 
be amazingly slow. I arranged that each man should be pro- 
vided with food for ten days, and secured extra yaks to carry 
these rations. Karanghu-tagh has perhaps never seen so 
grand a procession as when my caravan set out on the march. 
The whole village turned out to witness the spectacle. 

After passing down the Kash valley for about two miles we 
struck to the east, and, crossing the spur I had before ascended, 
moved into the side-valley of Busat. Not far from the point 
where it bifurcates into two narrow gorges leading up to the 
mountain wall southwards, the path ascended a high cross-spur. 
From its top, at an elevation of close on 12,000 feet, the glaciers 
of the great Muztagh, and all the gorges leading down to the 
main stream, were visible in great clearness. So the photo- 
theodolite was brought to work again, though the weather was 


218 HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH [cmap. xin. 


not as favourable as on the day when I marched to Karanghu- 
tagh. Early in the afternoon for several days past I had noticed 
the same atmospheric change, a strong north wind rising and 
bringing clouds and a dust haze that soon covered the sky. 

From the Boinak spur an easy path led down for some 
three miles to where the mouth of the Omsha Valley descend- 
ing from the west face of Muztagh opens into the Yurung-kash 
gorge. The river, which we here crossed to the right bank, 
was about 50 yards broad, and nowhere deeper than 3 feet. 
Its water had a delightful bluish-green tint, and reminded me 
by its limpidity of the mountain streams of Kashmir and the 
Alps. I wondered how to account for this clearness of the 
water, seeing that the Yurung-kash must be fed very largely 
by the glacier water of the Muztagh and other peaks. Of the 
large volume of water which it carries down during the summer 
months, the broad strips of boulder-strewn ground were a 
plain indication. 

On the 26th of October I woke again to a gloriously clear 
morning, and soon forgot in the rays of the rising sun that it 
had been 24° F. at 7 a.m. From Terek-aghzi, where I had 
camped by the river-bank, a steep path led up to a long grassy 
spur known as Zilan, jutting out from the mountain side 
northward. On reaching its top, after a climb of two and a 
half hours, I was rewarded by a splendid view of the glacier- 
girt Muztagh and the rugged snowy range southwards. 
Some four miles to the south-east the Yurung-kash gorge 
completely disappeared between the series of stupendous spurs 
of rock which descend from the great peak on its left and the 
main range opposite. Looking up towards the mighty 
southern buttresses of ‘“‘ K.5,” and the frowning ice-peaks 
showing their heads above them, it required almost an effort 
of imagination to believe that behind lay those Pamir-like 
uplands in which, as I knew from Captain Deasy’s explora- 
tions, the Yurung-kash takes its rise. That there was no 
practicable route over the rock-walls through which the river 


CHAP. XIII | GORGE OF YURUNG-KASH 219 


has cut its way past Muztagh, was absolutely clear from the 
view before us. But there remained the chance of the river- 
bed itself offering the desired passage. This hope occupied 
my mind as I descended by a difficult track just practicable 
for yaks to the left bank of the river, at the point known as 
Issik-bulak, “‘ the hot spring.”” On the sheer cliffs opposite 


VIEW UP THE YURUNG-KASH GORGE, WITH SPURS OF PEAK K.5 ON LEFT. 


my camping-ground, and at a height of about 300 feet above 
the level of the river-bed, I could see a hot spring issuing in 
considerable volume. The hill people are said to bathe in its 
water when the winter makes the river easily fordable. The 
half-a-dozen herdsmen of Omsha, who had joined me on the 
way, unanimously declared that they had never passed beyond 
this spot, and that the gorge further up was inaccessible for 


220 HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH  [cHap. xi. 


human feet. Whether their assertion was true, or whether 
the formidable ravine ahead would yet yield us an opening, 
was a question that only the morrow’s exploration could 
answer. 

On the 27th of October a day’s hard climbing among the 
rocks, shingle, and boulders of the Yurung-kash gorge verified 
the Taghliks’ prediction. As soon as the sun had fairly risen 
over the great mountain walls to the east I started with Ram 
Singh, Tila Bai, the most active of my people, and three hill- 
men from Omsha. Foreseeing that we should have to cross the 
river in the course of our reconnaissance, I had three of the 
biggest yaks taken along. At first we followed the steep hill- 
side above the right bank where our camp was pitched, as its 
height promised a better view of the ground ahead. We had 
made our way for about a mile and a half onwards when all 
further progress was barred by a ravine descending from a 
great height and flanked by wholly unscaleable rocks. The 
view I had before me was wild in the extreme. I could now 
clearly make out the walls of frowning cliffs which, broken 
only by almost equally precipitous shoots of rock and shingle, 
lined the foot of the great spurs falling off to the river. 
The passage left for the river seemed nowhere more 
than 200 feet wide, and at places considerably less. The 
volume of water reduced by the autumn now filled only one- 
half to three-fourths of this space. But the beds of huge 
boulders seen along the actual channel were not continuous, 
but alternately on the left and right bank. Where the river 
flowed with light green colour over boulders and ledges, we 
might hope to effect a crossing. But where it whirled round 
the foot of sheer cliffs the water showed a colour of intense 
blue, and was manifestly far deeper. Yet it was clear that 
our only hope lay in being able to follow up the river-bed. 

To descend to it was no easy matter from where we stood. 
But after marching back for half a mile we found a practicable 
slope and managed to scramble down to the edge of the water. 


cHAP. xu.] ATTEMPT TO PENETRATE GORGE 221 


When the yaks had been dragged down too, with much 
trouble, we began to make our way up the ravine. A wall of 
impassable rock, with a stretch of deep water at its foot, forced 
us soon to search for a ford to the opposite side. This we 
found, and thanks to the yaks, which waded splendidly in the 
ice-cold water undismayed by the rapid current, we managed 
to get sately across. The yak is a difficult animal to guide, 
even on the best ground ; when in the water any attempt to 
control its movements would be useless. So it was with a 
feeling of relief that I noticed the instinctive care with which 
our yaks made their way from one convenient boulder to the 
other. The limpid water made it possible for them to see 
their way as much as to feel it. 

On the left bank we had scarcely advanced a few hundred 
yards over jumbled masses of rock that had been swept down 
from the slopes above, when we were stopped again by a 
precipitous rock-face washed at its foot by the ominous blue 
water. To cross over to the opposite bank, where a stretch of 
boulder-strewn ground might have allowed an advance, was 
quite impossible. The yak we drove into the water to test its 
depth was soon obliged to swim, and had we attempted the 
passage we should have had to follow its example. In order 
to effect a crossing here with the needful baggage a raft or 
boat was manifestly indispensable. “But how could we secure 
it in this forlorn region, where wood was practically unobtain- 
able, and where the people had never even heard of that most 
useful implement, the ‘ Massak,’ or inflated skin ? 

The only chance of progress left was to take to the crags 
above us, and to trust that further on a descent might be 
found again to a practicable portion of the river-bed. After a 
difficult climb of some 500 feet I managed to bring myself 
and my men safely to a narrow flat ledge, but the yaks 
had to be left below. We followed the ledge for some 
hundreds of yards until it ended at the flank of a ravine that 
would have defied any cragsman. A careful search for a point 


299, HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH [cuap. xu. 


where we might descend again to the river was in vain. The 
steep shingly slope terminated everywhere in cliffs that offered 
no foothold. Baffled in these endeavours, I climbed up the 
precipitous hillside above the ledge that had brought us so 
far, in the hope of turning the ravine. But after an ascent of 
about 1,000 feet I convinced myself that the ground beyond 
was one oyer which I could never hope to move either yaks or 
men with loads. 

While I rested on a little projecting ridge the noise of fall- 
ing stones drew my attention to a herd of wild goats (Kiyik) 
that were evidently about to descend from the cliffs opposite. 
The tracks of these animals I had already noticed on the hill- 
side. They alone are likely ever to have penetrated into the 
wild gorge that lay before me. The point where a large 
stream from the glaciers of Muztagh falls into the Yurung- 
kash seemed temptingly near. Once beyond this junction 
there would be less difficulty in crossing the river, and conse- 
quently in ascending its bed. Yet there was no hope of 
reaching this point until perhaps the river was completely 
frozen, an eventuality for which it was impossible to wait. 
Even then I doubt whether a practicable passage could be 
found, considering the climatic conditions and the masses of 
fallen rock likely to be encountered. . 

All day an icy wind had been blowing down the valley, 
giving a foretaste of the cold that might be encountered at 
this season on the elevated plateau where, in view of our 
survey results, the source of the river can now be definitely 
located. I did not envy the yaks the bath they got in cross- 
ing back to the right bank, and was heartily glad to reach the 
shelter of my tent at the hour of dusk. The night was cloudy 
and still, and on the following morning snow was falling on 
the mountains down to about 38,000 feet above our camp, 
the elevation of which by aneroid was close to 9,000 feet. 
Down in the river gorge the temperature at 7 a.m. was 
a little higher than on previous days (34° F.), but as soon as 


CHAP. x1.] © FORCED TO TURN BACK 223 


we ascended by the path we had come before it became 
bitterly cold, and the wind was piercing. Winter had already 
set in for these regions. 

For the return to Karanghu-tagh I chose the route through 
the Omsha Valley, into which we crossed without much diffi- 
culty over the ridge of Soghak-Oghil, at an elevation of about 
11,500 feet. At the central hamlet of Omsha I found two 


YAKS CARRYING BAGGAGE IN YURUNG-KASH GORGE, NEAR KARANGHU-TAGH. 


low mud-built houses among a few fields of oats and some 
troglodyte shepherds’ dwellings. The weather cleared in the 
afternoon, and I felt grateful for the warming rays of the sun 
before he set behind the mountains. The valley of Omsha, 
though scarcely a quarter of a mile broad, looked quite spacious 
and inviting after the awful gorge of the main river. Notwith- 
standing the elevation of about 10,000 feet, oats are said to 


994 HEADWATERS OF YURUNG-KASH [cwHap. xt. 


grow well in years when a sufficient snowfall on the mountains 
around assures irrigation. 

The elevation of Omsha, together with the change in the 
weather, made itself felt by a truly cold night. On the morn- 
ing of the 29th of October the thermometer at 7 a.m. showed 
only 17° F. But the sky was of dazzling clearness, and in 
the crisp mountain air the cold had an almost exhilarating 
effect. After a pleasant march of two hours we reached the 
right bank of the Yurung-kash, close to Terek-aghzi. Instead 
of the previous route, I now followed the path by the river- 
side. It crosses the Yurung-kash about two miles below the 
above junction, and then winds along the precipitous cliffs of 
the left bank for another three miles. The ups and downs 
over slopes of loose conglomerate were very fatiguing, but the 
picturesque views of the wild river-gorge amply made up for 
this. At one point the river has cut its way through walls of 
solid rock, scarcely 50 feet apart, for a distance of several 
hundred yards. Elsewhere the vehemence of floods has 
excavated yawning caverns from the huge alluvial fans. Not 
far from the point where the Kash Valley from Karanghu-tagh 
joins this gorge, the path led over a succession of rocky ledges 
of remarkable steepness. The ascent indeed looked like a 
huge flight of stairs built by nature along the brink of a pre- 
cipice more than 500 feet high. The yaks climbed it with 
astonishing surefootedness, but it was uncomfortable to look 
down on the track over which they had carried us. 


CHAPTER XIV 
OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES 


OUR previous survey, including the expedition up the Yurung- 
kash gorge, had cleared up the important question as to the 
true origin and course of the main feeder of the Khotan River. 
The next and equally interesting task was to map the head- 
waters of the streams which drain the portion of the Kuen-luen 
range south and south-west of Karanghu-tagh, and are mani- 
festly the principal tributaries. In the course of my inquiries 
from the Omsha herdsmen about dominant points that would 
enable me to sight again the series of magnificent glaciers 
which feed the Kash River, I had ascertained that there was 
a difficult path just practicable for laden yaks crossing the 
transverse range north-west to Karanghu-tagh. It was said 
to lead to the Nissa Valley, whence a track could be found to 
the mountains on the upper Kara-kash River. I was delighted 
at this intelligence, For it showed not only, what the 
Karanghu-tagh people had carefully hidden from me, that 
there was a connection with the outer world besides the route 
via Pisha, but also that this connection would take me into a 
region which had so far remained an absolute terra incognita. 

The start for Nissa, on which I accordingly decided for the 
morning of October 30th, was attended with some difficulty. 
The Yuzbashi of Karanghu-tagh, who had before proved 
obstructive, evidently did not cherish the idea of helping us to 


follow a route the knowledge of which he seemed anxious to 
16 295 


226 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES [cuap. xiv. 


keep for his own people. So, notwithstanding the previous 
orders, no yaks turned up in the morning. When the man 
saw that I was in earnest and that further delay was likely to 
involve him in more serious consequences than the voluminous 
objurgations to which Islam Beg and Niaz, the Chinese 
interpreter, had treated him already, the yaks were dragged 
out from the neighbouring glens. But we had lost two hours 
—a long time at that season when night falls so early in the 
narrow valleys. 

At 10 a.m. we started up the Kash stream, and after about 
two miles turned into a narrow glen known as Gez Jilga. 
When after a toilsome climb of close on three hours we had 
reached the Pom-tagh Pass, about 12,400 feet above the 
sea, a grand view opened to the east and south. It 
comprised the whole glacier-crested range from ‘ Muztagh’ 
on the extreme left to the hoary peaks which showed their 
heads above the glaciers closing the Karanghu-tagh Valley. 
No visible point in the glittering crest-line which filled about 
one-third of the horizon could be much under 20,000 feet, 
while quite a number of the peaks, as subsequent triangula- 
tion showed, reached 22,000 to 23,000 feet. Nearer to the 
south-west and west there rose a perfect maze of steep ser- 
rated ridges and steeple-like peaks. Embedded among them, 
but quite invisible lay the narrow valleys forming the grazing 
grounds of Nissa. I climbed a knoll on the water-shed ridge 
some 400 feet above the pass, where work with the plane-table 
and photo-theodolite kept us busy for a couple of hours. It 
was an ideal day for survey work; scarcely a cloud lay on 
the horizon, and the air, with 50° F. in the shade, felt 
deliciously warm. 

An extremely steep track, by which our ponies were led 
with difficulty, took us first along a bare rocky ridge and then 
down, at least 3,000 feet, by a narrow ravine to the Karagaz 
gorge. When we had reached its bottom by half-past four 
it was getting quite dusk between the high and precipitous 


CHAP. XIV. | IN NISSA VALLEY. 227 


rock-walls. As we descended for about two milesin this narrow 
defile to where it joins the gorge of the Nissa stream, the 
reddish glow of the evening sun that had set for us long before 
lit up some towering pinnacles in front. It was like a magic 
illumination, this display of red light on the yellowish crags 
devoid of all trace of vegetation. Only in the Tyrol Dolo- 
mites, and on a smaller scale in the defiles where the Indus 
breaks through the Salt Range, had I seen the like. 

The Nissa gorge which we had next to ascend was equally 
confined, and the darkness which now completely overtook us 
made the long ride, with our ponies slowly groping their way 
between the boulders of the river-bed or along the narrow 
ledges, most wearisome. Here and there in bends of the 
defile we passed scanty patches of cultivated ground, with low 
mud huts inhabited only during the summer months. The 
wicked Yuzbashi who by his delay had caused this trying 
night march, and who was now accompanying the baggage, 
came in for some blows from my men as we passed the belated 
yaks, a long way yet from the end of our march. 

When at last we arrived at Nissa, I was glad of the tem- 
porary shelter which the hut of the ‘Bai’ of the little settle- 
ment offered. My host owed this proud title to the possession 
of some yaks and a flock of sheep, and his habitation was but 
a mud-built hovel. All the same, it was a cheerful change 
from the raw night air to the warmth and light of his fire- 
place. . 

The 81st of October we halted at Nissa. The men needed 
rest and Ram Singh time for astronomical observations. I 
used the day to collect information regarding the mountain 
routes that lead to the Kara-kash Valley westwards and 
towards Khotan, but found it no easy task; for the appre- 
hension of the trouble that my tours might cause made the 
hillmen more than usually reticent. Nissa counts some 
twenty houses, but most of the men that inhabit it during the 
winter were still away with the sheep and yaks on the higher 


228 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES [cHap. XIV, 


erazing-erounds. Apart from a few willows and a bold snowy 
peak visible at the head of the valley, there was nothing to 
break the monotony of the dusty grey of the rocks and the 
little plain between them. But the sky showed the purest blue 
and the sun shone warmly. So the day passed pleasantly 
even in these surroundings. 

It is lucky for historical geography that the name Nissa is 
not that of a locality further West. Else it could scarcely 
have escaped identification, at the hands of amateur 
antiquaries, with Nysa, the mythic residence of Dionysus in 
the Indian Caucasus, which Alexander too is supposed to have 
visited. It amused me to think of the flights of imagination 
that would be required in order to clothe these most barren of 
rocks with the vines sacred to the god whom the great con- 
queror flattered himself by imitating in his Indian conquest. 

On the morning of November Ist I set out for the Brinjak 
Pass, which connects the Nissa Valley with the mountain defiles 
northward. As I was anxious to utilise the extensive view 
likely to be obtained from its height for a final survey of the 
head-waters of the Yurung-kash, I decided to camp as near as 
possible to the pass in order to secure plenty of time for the 
morrow’s work. It was not easy to carry out this plan, as the 
steep rocky ravine in which the ascent lay was exceptionally 
narrow. But at last a point was reached about 12,800 feet 
high by aneroid, where the narrow bottom just left room for a 
couple of tents. So giving order to pitch the camp here, I 
climbed the steep ridge south of the ravine. My reconnais- 
sance showed that a splendid survey station could be secured 
by ascending a high aréte north-east of the pass. The 
piercing cold wind soon drove me down to my tent, which 
seen from above in the narrow gorge looked curiously like a 
stretched-out bat, the outer flaps touching the rocky slopes on 
either side. - The interior did not give ease, for the steep slope 
allowed the use of neither table nor chair, and the camp-bed, 
too, could not be placed at an angle of less than 25°, 


CHAP. xiv.| SURVEY ABOVE BRINJAK PASS 229 


Whether it was through the unaccustomed position or the 
continual slipping away of the rugs that were to keep off the 
bitter cold, I got little sleep that night. 

At 7 a.m. the temperature was only 21° F., and the 
little stream close by was frozen solid. An hour’s stiff climb 
brought me up to the Brinjak pass, for which the aneroid showed 
a height of about 14,000 feet. To ascend the steep ridge pre- 
viously singled out for survey work was no easy task, as the 
whole of it proved to be covered with confused masses of 
boulders and flaked rock, showing the force with which de- 
composing agencies are at work at this altitude. After a few 
hundred feet the yaks carrying the instruments could be got 
no further. The theodolite could not be exposed to the risk 
of this scramble from rock to rock, but the Taghlik to whom 
I entrusted the. photo-theodolite managed to follow though 
with great difficulty. The ridge gradually narrowed to a 
precipitous grat. After an hour and a half’s climbing I had 
reached its highest knoll, where hard frozen snow filled the 
interstices of the rocks. 

To the north-east, but separated from us by a great dip 
in the ridge, rose a steeple-like peak, the Mudache-tagh, 
we had already sighted from the Pom-tagh Pass. To 
climb it would have been a stiff piece of mountaineering, 
even if time had sufficed. This peak, 17,220 feet high, shut 
off the view of the second triangulated peak above Buya, 
upon which we should have had to rely for theodolite work. 
But otherwise the view was as grand and clear as could 
be desired. ‘Muztagh’ showed itself in full majesty, and 
beyond it to the south-east there now appeared several distant 
snowy ridges previously invisible that guard the approach to 
the main Yurung-kash source. How should we have fared 
between them if the passage above Issik-bulak could have been 
negotiated ? Further to the south the line of the horizon 
for a distance of close on one hundred miles was crowned by 
an unbroken succession of snowy peaks and glaciers. 


230 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES [cwap. xiv. 


The nearest to us were those at the head of the Nissa Valley 
below a prominent cone, for which subsequent triangulation 
showed a height of 25,070 feet. But bigger still looked the 
ice-streams that descend in a huge amphitheatre above the 
valley of Karanghu-tagh. Further to the south-west and west 
the steep crags of the Chankul and other neighbouring peaks 
shut off a distant view. They were all glittering with fresh 


KUEN-LUEN RANGE, WITH GLACIERS OF NISSA VALLEY, SEEN FROM BRINJAK, 


snow, probably from that fall which we had witnessed at Issik- 
bulak; but the beds of snow filling the ravines of the 
Iskuram valley enclosed by these peaks looked old, more like 
incipient glaciers. 

The sky was the brightest azure, and its colour only 
heightened the effect of the dazzling glacier panorama south- 
wards. Though it was midday and the actinic power of the 
sun’s rays considerable, the temperature in the shade 


CHAP. XIV. | A TRYING DESCENT 231 


kept about 25° F. Fortunately there was little wind, so I 
managed to do the photo-theodolite work without much trouble. 
But I was glad when, after an hour and a half’s exposure, I 
could again warm my benumbed fingers. The aneroids showed 
a height of 15,300 feet. 

By half-past one our work was finished; Ram Singh had 
been able to verify by good intersections the plane-table work 
of the last ten days. Once back on the pass our yaks could 
be used again for the descent northwards into the valley which 
drains the Iskuram peaks. But an unexpected difficulty 
retarded the descent. About half a mile from the pass 
where the track enters a narrow ravine we suddenly came 
on hard ice below a crust of detritus dust. It was the recent 
snow that had melted in the few hours of sunshine, and had 
subsequently got frozen. Even the yaks slid uncomfortably 
on this treacherous ground, and the slopes below the path 
were sufficiently steep to make a slip dangerous. The leather 
mocassins (‘Charuk’) of my companions here gave safer 
foothold than my boots with Alpine nails worn flat by previous 
marches. So I gladly availed myself of their assistance at 
the worst bits. 

Ice and dust—the combination appealed to me as charac- 
teristic of this strange and forbidding mountain-land of 
Khotan. But I felt grateful when, after about an hour’s 
cautious progress, we had got clear of this trying ground. 
Lower down the ravine somewhat widened, and just as it was 
getting dark we arrived at the little grazing ground of Chash, 
which gives its name to the valley. My tent was pitched on 
a small plot of withered grass ; behind it under the shelter of 
a projecting rock-wall my men established themselves. Close 
by, huddled under the side of some rock cavities, I found a 
couple of small felt huts inhabited by Taghlk families who 
live here summer and winter. They owned only a few sheep, 
and were said to subsist mainly upon charitable gifts from the 
shepherds of the Borazan canton who drive their flocks up 


232 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES [cHap. xIv. 


here during the summer months. The ample scrub growing 
in the valley enabled these poor people to withstand the 
rigours of the winter which, at an elevation of about 10,100 
feet, must be considerable. 

In the course of the evening four Taghliks arrived from 
Mitaz, the nearest hamlet northwards, in response to the 
summons sent by my Beg. They assured us that fodder had 
been sent ahead to an intermediate halting-place. This was 
welcome news, as our supply from Nissa was running out ; 
but the hoped-for information as to a route across the moun- 
tains to the Kara-kash Valley was not to be got out of the 
distrustful hillmen. Every question about localities was met 
with a stereotyped ‘bilmaidim’ (‘‘I do not know’’), until 
even the stolid herdsmen from Nissa laughed at this pretended 
ignorance. It was evident that the arrival of strangers, such 
as they had never before beheld or perhaps even heard of, 
filled these good people with all kinds of apprehensions. 

After the hard work of the previous day I was glad that on 
the 8rd of November my men could start late when the air had 
warmed up a little in the bright sunshine. For about three 
miles we descended the Chash Valley, until it turns eastwards 
to flow through an impassable rock defile towards the Yurung- 
kash. Our way continued to the north up a narrow side 
valley flanked by sheer cliffs of conglomerate. At its entrance 
we watered the ponies: for the glen higher up is absolutely 
waterless, except for a salt spring unfit for drinking. After 
another eight miles we arrived at the foot of the Yagan- 
Dawan, and pitched camp at the highest point where there was 
still room for a tent in the steep ravine leading up to the pass. 
Three bags of ice had been brought from Chash to provide us 
with water. 

The night, thanks to the sheltered position, was passed in 
comparative comfort, and next morning the bright sunshine 
induced me and Ram Singh to clamber up the pass long 
before the baggage was ready to start. Some of the Nissa 


cHap..xIv.| VIEW FROM YAGAN-DAWAN | 233 


men had bolted overnight, and this caused trouble, for the 
yak is an obstinate animal and each wants one man quite to 
himself when carrying baggage. That day one man had to 
suffice for three or four of them, and the poor fellows left behind 
were manifestly in for a bad time. The Yagan-Dawan proved 
a very narrow saddle flanked by steep ridges on the east and 
west. In order to get a full view we climbed the western 
ridge, and reached its top at an elevation of about 12,000 feet. 
It was a splendid survey station, completely commanding 
the confused network of rocky ridges and deep-cut ravines 
which extends between the middle courses of the Yurung- 
kash and Kara-kash. We now stood on the watershed 
between the two rivers. But the high serrated range we 
. had crossed from Nissa shut off the view of the great snowy 
mountains south, and even of the dominating Muztagh we 
could only sight the glacier-covered northern buttresses. So 
the hope of triangulation was once more doomed to dis- 
appointment. | 

I shall never forget the view that opened westwards and in 
the direction of the distant plains. There were lines upon 
lines of absolutely bare rocky spurs, closely packed together 
and running mostly from south to north; between them, shut 
in by unsealable rock slopes, was a maze of arid gorges, of 
which the bottom could not be seen. It was like a choppy 
sea, with its waves petrified in wild confusion. Far away on 
the horizon this rocky waste was disappearing in a yellow 
haze, the familiar indication of another region which knows 
no life—the distant sea of sand. 

The impressions gathered in front of this panorama were 
heightened when, after three hours’ busy work, we descended 
into the ravine leading down from the pass to the north-west. 
About 1,500 feet below the saddle the bottom was reached, 
and then began a passage of fantastic rock defiles, the like of 
which I had never seen. For nearly three hours I marched 
between walls of conglomerate and apparently chalky rock 


234 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES [cwap, xiv. 


rising thousands of feet above the narrow fissure at the 
bottom. As it appeared to me in my total want of geological 
training, only the erosive action of water, aided by 
extreme disintegration of the rocks under peculiar climatic 
conditions, could have produced these extraordinary forma- 
tions. But of water there was no trace, only ankle-deep 
dust overlying the detritus. For the first four or five 


ERODED RANGES TO NORTH-WEST, SEEN FROM ABOVE YAGAN-DAWAN. 


miles there was scarcely even scrub growing in these 
terribly barren gorges ; animal life seemed completely absent. 
The want of water did not physically distress me, as it did our 
ponies and yaks, which had tasted no drop for more than 
twenty-four hours. Yet my attention was ever turned to it 
in contrast, by the sight of the huge, overhanging cliffs, the 
cavities, and isolated pinnacles, which all looked as if water 
had worked them. 


CHAP. xIv.| THROUGH FANTASTIC GORGES 235 


Above my head the sky was still blue, and the higher cliffs 
reflected bright sunlight ; yet the gloom of these ravines and 
their desolation were depressing. I also knew that my 
baggage was painfully straggling, the yaks proving unmanage- 
able with so few men, and knocking off their loads whenever 
they found a conveniently projecting rock. So I was doubly 
pleased when after a march of about eight miles from the 
pass I emerged into the fairly open valley of Mitaz. There I 
found still warm sunshine and a lively stream from which my 
pony drank in long, long draughts. I enjoyed the splash and 
sound of the water after those silent dead ravines, and sat 
cheerfully by its side until my baggage appeared at dusk. It 
was pleasant to read in the tiny seventeenth-century edition 
of Horace, which always travels in my saddlebag, of the 
springs that gave charm for the poet to another mountain 
region far away in the West. And then the question touched 
my mind: What is this vast mountain world in human interest 
compared to the Sabine Hills? It has no past history as far 
as man is concerned, and what can be its future ?—unless 
destiny has reserved the prospects of another Klondyke for 
the auriferous rivers of Khotan. 

On the 5th of November our start was late; for the men from 
Nissa had to be paid off, and it took time before those of 
Mitaz had got their animals ready and loaded.- Mitaz is 
a very small hamlet, and its eight or nine holdings lie 
scattered higher up the valley. The latter after our previous 
route, looked comparatively open, but in reality the only avail- 
able track lay close along, or in, the river-bed. The water, 
beautifully clear, was nowhere more than two feet deep. So 
our continual crossings, necessitated by projecting rock spurs, 
caused no great trouble except to ‘ Yolchi Beg,’ who had to 
be caught each time and carried across on horseback—a 
procedure to which the little fellow never submitted in good 
grace. 

We marched this day some sixteen miles down the stream 


236 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES [cwap. xiv. 


to the north, but saw no human being, except the children of 
a shepherd family living in a little cave close to where the 
Sukosai Valley runs down from the west. The eldest of four 
children was a blind boy of seven. Smallpox had deprived 
him of his eyesight, but he knew his way about the valley, and 
Thad less trouble than usual in getting from him the local 
names of the immediate neighbourhood. The only reward 
I had at hand was a silver piece, which he promised to give 
to his mother. We camped at the point where an alternative 
route to the plains, by the Kunat Pass, leaves the Mitaz 
valley eastwards. It was said to be impassable for horses, and 
its entrance, a narrow rockbound gorge, looked sufficiently 
forbidding. 

At Kunat-aghzi, where the hypsometer showed a height of 
only 6,890 feet, and where the temperature at 7 a.m. was just 
at freezing-point, I had the feeling of nearing the plains. But 
the Ulughat Pass that was still to be crossed had a surprise 
in store. On the 7th of November we marched for about eight 
miles down the Mitaz stream, when the view to the right 
showed us a broad, sandy slope leading up to a high ridge. 
In striking contrast to the serrated cliffs of the ranges around, 
no rock protruded from this uniform slope. Hence it looked far 
lower than in reality it was. I knew the optical deception which 
made Ram Singh estimate the height before us at only about 
1,000 feet ; yet I was not prepared for the climb that awaited 
us. Fortwo anda half hours our ponies toiled upwards in 
zigzags along a slope of which the angle seemed nowhere less 
than 25 degrees. The soil was gravel and loose earth, the 
last remains of rock formations that had withered away during 
unknown ages. The longer the climb lasted the higher rose 
my almost abandoned hope of getting a panorama of the whole 
range that would give us at last a simultaneous view of several 
peaks already triangulated from the Ladak side. On this 
depended the chance of fixing our position with absolute 
certainty and ultimately connecting Khotan itself with the 


CHAP. XIV. | A GRAND PANORAMA 237 


Indian Trigonometrical Survey. The great Muztagh, which 
had again and again during our previous climbs appeared 
before us in unmistakable majesty, could alone not suffice 
for this purpose; and other triangulated peaks on the main 
watershed we had been unable to recognise with any certainty 
as long as we were comparatively near to the unbroken screen 
of icy ridges. 

It was thus with a feeling of eager expectation that I 
pushed upwards. The long-stretched back of the mountain 
forming the Ulughat-Dawan had become visible when the 
slope changed into a series of less steep shoulders. But a 
projecting spur shut off the view to the south and kept me in 
suspense. An hour ahead of my people and followed only by 
Ram Singh, I gained at last a small saddle in the main ridge. 
By ascending a broad knoll to the south I should soon learn 
whether my hope was to be fulfilled. So we left the ponies 
and hurried up. It was a moment of intense joy when, 
arrived at the top, I beheld the grand panorama that suddenly 
revealed itself. The whole of the mountain-world traversed 
during the last three weeks lay before me, and beyond it a 
semicircle of great snowy peaks which had been hidden 
hitherto by nearer ranges. Far beyond Muztagh we could 
see glittering ranges in the direction of the main Yurung-kash 
source. The glaciers we had passed at the head of the valleys 
between Issik-bulak and Nissa were now seen to be sur- 
mounted by ice-peaks of the most varied shapes, domes, 
pyramids, and bold steeple-like cones. To the west there 
rose a grand chain of snowy mountains encircling the head — 
waters of the Kara-kash river. No European eye had ever 
seen them from the south. Towards the north only a narrow 
belt of eroded rocky ridges separated us from the great desert 
plain and its fringe, the Khotan oasis. 

The sky was brilliantly clear all around, but over the plains 
there hung the ever-present haze of dust. It covered and 
effaced with its tinge of brownish-yellow alike the sand of the 


238 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES [cuap. xiv. 


desert, the river courses, and the belt of cultivated land. 
Where it touched the horizon, far away in the Taklamakan, 
the skyline showed a brilliant light green. Yet in height this 
cover of dusty atmosphere could scarcely exceed 1,000 ft. For 
we could clearly see the foot of the outer range rising above 
the bed of the Kara-kash where the latter winds through the 
low glacis-like plateaus stretching away northwards. 

It was three in the afternoon when I arrived on this com- 
manding height. It was manifest that no time remained for 
theodolite work, for which nature herself seemed to have 
destined the position, and that we should have to remain there 
for the night. The saddle on the main spur offered a con- 
venient spot on which to place the camp, but the want of 
water was a difficulty. Fortunately I had foreseen this chance 
and sent Islam Beg ahead to Pujia, a village on the Kara- 
kash. He had orders to meet us on the pass with fresh 
ponies and a supply of water. So when my baggage arrived 
a little before sunset, the tents were pitched close below our 
survey station. Before this the plane-table had come up, and 
we eagerly searched the horizon southwards for points 
previously triangulated and shown on our section sheet. 

This time my hopes were not to be disappointed. Having 
once determined our position on the plane-table, it was easy 
to recognise in a great ice-pyramid towering above the Kash 
valley glaciers the Kuen-luen Peak No. 1 of the Indian Survey, 
21,750 feet high. Its position coincided most accurately with 
the direction indicated by our map. In the east the identity 
of another high landmark, the ‘‘ Tartary Peak No. 2,” was 
equally assured, and in order to dispel any lingering doubt, 
there appeared in a gap of the Iskuram range the glittering 
snowy top of a far more distant peak, exactly where the 
Survey tables place the “‘ Kara-kash Peak No. 2,” also reach- 
ing close to 22,000 feet. This rapid survey made it certain 
that it was possible to triangulate the surrounding region 
down to Khotan itself with assurance. The direct connection 


cHAP. xIv.| NIGHT ON ULUGHAT-DAWAN 239 


of Khotan with the system of the Indian Surveys, on which 
the determination of its exact longitude depends, had long 
been sought for in vain. Yet here a position within a few days’ 
march from Khotan, to which luck and, perhaps, a little topo- 
graphical instinct had guided us, gave the desired opportunity. 
It only remained to pray for a clear sky on the morrow. 

The sunset on the grand chain of the south was a sight of 
incomparable beauty. Long after the serrated crests of the 
intervening ranges had sunk into blueish shadows, the icy 
peaks beyond the glaciers which feed the western tributaries 
of the Yurung-kash continued in brilliant sunlight. Then 
one after the other shone in rosy tints until the glow became 
a deeper and deeper red, to pass away into purple and dark- 
ness. At last, only the grand dome of ‘ Muztagh,’ with its 
highest pinnacle shaped like a Phrygian cap, and our newly 
discovered Kuen-luen Peak No. 1 reflected the light of the sun 
that had long before set for us. 

The changes of colour in the tints of yellowish haze over 
the plains were delightful to watch. But the increasing cold 
and the wind that sprung up from the east soon drove me 
down to the tent. There a cup of tea boiled from the water I 
had brought up in my water-bottle was for hours the only 
refreshment my establishment could offer. There was no 
trace of Islam Beg and his water supply. But I cheerfully 
put up with the prospect of not eating my dinner until next 
morning, in view of the result which to-day’s work promised. 
The glorious sight of the full moon rising below us soon drew 
me outside the tent. Her light was as clear at our altitude as 
I had ever seen it in India, and showed up every crag and 
recess in the withered conglomerate ridges eastwards. She 
looked as if rising from the sea when first emerging from the 
haze of dust that hid the plains, and her light shimmered on 
its surface. But when she climbed high up in the sky it was 
no longer a meek reflection that lit up the plain below. It 
seemed as if I were looking at the lights of a vast city lying 


240 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES [onap. x1v. 


below me in the endless plains. Could it really be that 
terrible desert where there was no life and no hope of human 
existence? I knew that I should never see it again-in this 
alluring splendour. Its appearance haunted me as I sat 
shivering in my tent, busy with a long-delayed mail that was 
to carry to distant friends my Christmas greetings. At last, 
about ten o'clock, a cheerful commotion in the camp announced 
the arrival of Islam Beg and the water-filled gourds he had 
managed to get brought up. The supply was small, and 
scarcely sufficed for a cup of tea for each man. Nevertheless 
Sadak Akhun succeeded in cooking my modest dinner, and 
after a last look at the magic city below I could retire to rest 
close upon midnight. 

Next day when I rose a little before 7 a.m. the sun was 
just rising above a lower ridge to the east. He shone brightly 
into the tent, but light fleecy clouds were floating in the sky. 
Fortunately the horizon to the south above the mountains was 
clear, and I lost no time in beginning the work of triangula- 
tion on our ‘‘hill-station ’’ close by. It was no easy task to 
select in this vast panorama the peaks that were the best land- 
marks of the numerous ranges within view and also likely to 
be recognised again from other positions. But after five 
hours’ steady work twenty-six prominent points were safely 
triangulated. The light clouds that gathered as the day 
advanced luckily kept clear of the mountains ; but coupled 
with a breeze from the north-east they made it cold on the 
exposed height, for which the triangulation results have 
indicated an elevation of 9,890 feet. 

I took a round of photo-theodolite views, and then we set 
about building a mark to enable us to identify our position 
with accuracy from the next triangulation station. No stone 
could be found anywhere. So the men from Pujia had to 
collect the low withered scrub and heap it up mixed with 
loose earth. When I descended to the tent I was glad of a 
cup of tea. But even more delightful it was to get enough 


cHaP. xIv.| DESCENT TO KARA-KASH VALLEY 241 


water for washing hands and face. A fresh supply had been 
sent up from Popuna, the next village north on the bank of 
the Kara-kash. So even my men ceased grumbling at the 
halt on this inhospitable Dawan, and were cheered by the 
prospect of our early descent to the plains. 

On the morning of the 8th of November we left Ulughat- 
Dawan under a sky of speckless blue. Notwithstanding the 
elevation the temperature was a little above freezing-point at 
7.380 a.m., an indication of the atmospheric influence of the 
neighbouring plains. For an hour and a half the path led 
down steeply over disintegrated slopes of earth and sand which 
completely covered the rock structure of the mountain. Only 
when close to the head of a narrow gorge did I see rocks show- 
ing strata of mica exposed. Down the bottom of this gorge, 
scarcely two or three yards broad, a little stream of water 
wound its way. It was so saline that the ponies would not 
drink from it. After a mile or two its water was lost in the 
ground. or fully three hours the route led between high 
cliffs of conglomerate and slate, until a turn round a projecting 
screen of rock suddenly brought us out into the open valley of 
the Kara-kash, just below Popuna. It was pleasant to see a 
stretch of level ground again and rows of trees in their vivid 
autumn tints. The valley of the Kara-kash, about half a mile 
broad, was bounded to the north by a bank of gravel some 200 
feet high, sloping like a natural glacis gently away towards 
the plains. Twice we crossed the Kara-kash, now a stream of 
beautifully clear greenish water, some forty yards broad and 
2 to 3 feet deep, before Langhru was reached three miles 
below Popuna. The village, though counting only about sixty 
houses, looked quite a large place to me after my wanderings 
amidst the solitary mountains. I could let my men enjoy its 
comforts only for a single night. For I knew that a wind 
raising the haze would effectually stop further survey work. 
So I felt anxious soon to reach another high ridge called 


Kauruk-kuz, which had appeared from the Ulughat-Dawan 
17 


2492 OVER THE KARA-KASH RANGES [cmap. xiv. 


the only point in the neighbourhood sufficiently elevated for 
a second triangulation station, and at the same time accessible 
with instruments. 

In order to reach it I started on the morning of the 9th of 
November back into the arid range southwards by the valley 
which leads towards the Kunat Pass. Against all expectation 
this valley proved fairly open for a distance of about nine 
miles. Then it contracted to a narrow gorge at a point known 
as Kuchkach-bulaki, where a little stream of brackish water 
trickled down between the rocks, covering the bottom with a 
saline deposit that looked like ice. The cliffs on either side 
grew higher and wilder as we advanced up the ravine, and I 
began to doubt whether after all a practicable way would offer 
out of this maze of contorted rocks to the high ridge I had 
sighted from Ulughat. It was getting dark by 4 p.m. when 
the highest point was reached to which ponies could advance. 

But to my relief there rose on the left a steep slope of 
detritus, much like that leading to Ulughat, and evidently the 
hoped for route to the Kauruk-kuz ridge. Camp was pitched 
in the narrow ravine, at an elevation of about 8,000 feet by 
aneroid. I took it as a lucky omen that just there I came 
upon a little party from Nissa, who had crossed the Kunat 
Pass with four yaks and were now waiting for the flour that 
was to be brought up to them from Khotan. The yaks had 
tasted no water for the last two days, but were all the same fit 
to help us. 

The next day’s climb proved a stiff one. The ridge which 
I had singled out for our station was close on 8,000 feet above 
our camp, and the slope was exceptionally steep. But 
the yaks carried us safely over the most trying part of the 
ascent, and when after three hours the top was reached, Ram 
Singh as well as myself was ready to set to work at once. 
The view was in some directions more extensive even than that 
from Ulughat. But the sky was less clear, and from the first 
T noticed an ominous haze that made me hurry on the 


CHAP. xIv.j| SUCCESSFUL TRIANGULATION 243 


observations. It was not long before my apprehensions were 
verified. A strong wind, passing from the plains southward, 
carried the haze further and further into the mountains ; there 
was no mistaking the dust of the desert that was threatening 
to overtake our work. Luckily the identification of the peaks 
to which previously angles had been measured by us, caused 
no delay, and though it seemed like a race with the veil of 
dust that was steadily rising, the round of theodolite observa- 
tions could be carried through with all needful accuracy. The 
peaks in the outer range of hills nearest to Khotan, by which 
the longitude of the town itself might be determined thereafter, 
were first in danger of being wiped from our horizon. But we 
were still in time; and when the haze, two hours later, had 
also obscured the view of the distant high ranges above the 
Kara-kash Valley, all but three out of the twenty-six peaks 
requiring triangulation had been safely observed. It was with 
a feeling of relief that I saw this task completed ; for I knew 
how persistent an obstacle the foglike haze of this region can 
prove to survey operations. Had I delayed but for a single 
day—and, I confess, there had been strong temptation— 
the chance of this triangulation might have been lost to 
us completely. The triangulated height of the ridge was 
10,820 feet. 

An hour’s scramble down the steep slopes brought me again 
into the ravine, where the ponies were waiting. As there was 
no water at the camp beyond that which had been brought up 
from Langhru on donkeys, I had sent word to my people 
earlier in the day to move back to the village. The ponies 
which had been left behind for us seemed eager too to get at 
water, and hurried down the valley at a good pace. But it 
soon got dark and our progress slackened. In the end our 
guide missed the track, and in order to make sure of nothing 
worse happening, took to the boulder-strewn bed of the dry 
stream. It was terribly bad ground for the ponies, and we 
all felt thoroughly tired by the time when a big camp-fire 
guided us late at night to camp in a field near Langhru. 


CHAPTER XV 
ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS AT KHOTAN 


On the 11th of November the short march to the village of 
Ujat, some eight miles lower down on the left bank of the 
Kara-kash, was made in an atmosphere so thick and grey that 
I had the sensation of a fogey antumn day somewhere near 
London. Ali view of the mountains, near as they were, was 
effaced as if with a brush, and from where my tent was pitched 
even the bluff spur just across the river at scarcely a mile’s 
distance loomed only in faint lines through the dust-laden air. 
It was this spur, known as Kohmari, the last offshoot of the 
Ulughat range towards the plains, which made me place my 
camp at Ujat. . 
Topographical indications that need not be detailed here had 
convinced me that M. Grenard, the companion of M. Dutreuil 
de Rhins, was right in identifying Kohmari with the holy 
Mount Gosringa which Hiuen-Tsiang describes as a famous 
pilgrimage place of Buddhist Khotan. A Vihara, or monastery, 
raised on it marked the spot where Sakyamuni was believed 
to have preached a ‘‘ digest of the Law” to the Devas. A 
cave in its side was venerated as the approach to ‘‘a great 
rock dwelling” where popular legend supposed an Arhat to 
reside ‘plunged in ecstasy and awaiting the coming of 
Maitreya Buddha.” The Muhammadan Mazar, worshipped 


as the resting-place of the saintly ‘‘Maheb Khwoja,” which 
244 


cHap. xv.]| VISIT TO MOUNT GOSRINGA 245 


now occupies the crest of the conglomerate cliff rising almost 
perpendicularly above the right river-bank, has inherited the 
religious merit of the old Buddhist shrine. It forms a 
favourite place of pilgrimage for the faithful of Khotan, who 
believe that the intercession of the saint is most efficacious 
when the low state of the rivers makes the cultivators fear a 
failure of their crops. On this account official recognition, in 
the form of a liberal offering from Amban Pan-Darin, was said 
to have recently been accorded to the shrine. 

The cave which the Chinese pilgrim saw still exists in the 
side of the cliff some fifty feet below the crest. Itis approached 
along a ledge of rock which contains the semi-troglodyte 
dwelling of the Sheikhs attending the Mazar. The caveitself, 
which is about 40 feet deep and from 8 to 10 feet high, is 
believed to have been the refuge of the saint whom the infidels 
killed here with smoke. Thus the legend accounts for the 
black soot that covers the rock walls. Pious pilgrims are wont 
to sit and pray in the cave, and the fires they light to keep 
themselves warm in winter time have naturally left their traces 
on the rock. A small upper chamber, approached from below 
by a ladder, shows above a narrow fissure running into the 
rock. The legend heard by the Chinese pilgrim represented 
this fissure as a passage which had been miraculously blocked 
by fallen rocks to hide the Arhat. 

Apart from its association with Hiuen-Tsiang’s visit, the 
Kohmari cave possessed for me a special interest. From “it 
the fragmentary birch-bark leaves of the ancient Indian manu- 
seript in Kharoshthi characters, now known as the Dutreuil de 
Rhins MS., were alleged to have been obtained. M. Grenard’s 
account shows that the leaves were delivered to him and his 
companion on two successive visits to Kohmari by natives 
who professed to have found them with other remains inside 
the grotto. But it is equally clear that neither of them was 
present on the occasion or was shown the exact spot of dis- 
covery. The men who sold those precious leaves to the 


246 ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS  [cuap. xv. 


French travellers seem to have prevented them from a 
personal inspection of the cave by alleging religious objec- 
tions. 

No difficulty whatever was raised in my case. I found 
the Mullahs, jovial, well-fed fellows, curiously resembling in 
their ways my old Purohita friends at Indian ‘ Tirthas,’ ready 
enough for a consideration to show me the cave, including its 
mysterious recesses. The close examination I was thus able 
to effect gave me strong reason to doubt the possibility of the 
manuscript having been really found there. Though the visit 
of the French explorers was well remembered by the Sheikhs, 
nothing was known to them or the villagers of the alleged 
discovery in the cave. Taking into account that other frag- 
ments of the same manuscript had been sold separately into 
Russian hands at Kashgar, it appears probable that the native 
‘* treasure-seekers ’’ concerned made the statement connecting 
their find with the cave simply in order to disguise the true 
place of discovery. 

In the course of my inspection of this sacred cave I had 
occasion to appreciate the easy-going ways of Khotan local 
worship. Nobody, however good a Musulman he may be, 
thinks of taking off his boots on approaching a sacred spot. 
Those who wear a kind of over-shoes with their top-boots 
leave them outside, it is true. But the common people not 
possessed of such refined footgear freely retain their high 
leather ‘ Charuks’ (mocassins) or the sandals fastened with 
long cloth bandages. The winter is cold in this region, and I 
wonder how frequent the occasions are when the Khotanese 
really do remove their footgear during the winter months. I 
have always managed to make friends with the priestly atten- 
dants of Indian shrines, be they Hindu or Muhammadan, and 
have almost invariably escaped the necessity of taking off my 
boots—a kind of déshabillé which for a European is incon- 
eruous and inconvenient, without in reality marking in any 
way religious conciliation. But in Khotan there seemed no 


CHAP. Xv.] IN A SACRED CAVE 247 


need even for the little diplomacy which elsewhere is usually 
required to save oneself this chance of catching cold. 

Ujat is a large village, its straggling dwellings surrounded 
by grape-gardens, for which it is famous. The dried grapes 
and currants of the place are said to find their way as far as 
the markets of Aksu, Kashgar, and Turfan. The vines are 
trained, as throughout Chinese Turkestan, along low fences, 
ranged in parallel lines. The work of covering up the stems 
with earth for the winter was just proceeding. The people of 
Ujat seem to have retained for a long time after the accep- 
tance of Islam the reputation of being weak in the faith and 
addicted to heretical ways. I wonder whether the extensive 
cultivation of the vine has something to do with this. 

My local inquiries and the arrival of a long-expected mail 
from Kashgar, which brought me home and Indian letters of a 
whole month and required early disposal, helped to detain me 
at Ujat. But on the 15th of November I marched back to 
Khotan by the shortest route, crossing the bleak pebble 
‘Sai’ that stretches from the Kohmari ridge to the southern 
edge of the cultivated area near the village of Kosa. I was 
surprised to find how rapidly the fertile tract towards the city 
had assumed its winter aspect. The long alleys of poplars 
and willows stood leafless ; the same storm that put a stop to 
our survey work on the mountains had brushed away the 
bright autumn colours which greeted me on my first descent 
to the Kara-kash. 

At Khotan it became necessary to make a short halt in 
order to give to my men and ponies the rest they required 
after the month of fatiguing marches. I also wanted time for 
the examination of the antiques which had found their way 
from various localities into the hands of the agents sent out 
on my behalf after my first visit. The small parties despatched 
to ancient sites in the desert also turned up with their spoil 
during my week’s stay. The party which had gone out under 
the guidance of Turdi, an old, and as experience showed, 


248 ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS [cuHap. xv. 


reliable ‘‘ treasure-seeker ”’ from 
a village of the Yurung-kash 
canton, had visited the most 
distant of the locally known 
sites, called by them Dandan- 
Uiliq (‘‘the houses with ivory’’). 
Among the specimens brought 
back by them I found to my 
ereat satisfaction several pieces 
of fresco inscribed with Indian 
Brahmi characters, fragments 
of stucco relievos representing 
objects of Buddhist worship, and 
also a small but undoubtedly 
genuine piece of a paper docu- 
ment in cursive Central-Asian 
Brahmi. 

It turned out, on further 
examination of the “‘ treasure- 
seekers,” that the ruins from 
which they had unearthed these 


remains, and which they de- 


TURDI, ‘‘ TREASURE SEEKER.” 


scribed as reached after nine to 
ten marches north-eastwards through the desert, were apparently 
identical with the site which Dr. Hedin had seen on his 
memorable march to the Keriya Darya, and which is spoken 
of in the narrative of his travels as the ‘‘ ancient city Takla- 
makan.”’ He had reached it by another route from Tawakkel 
on the northern edge of the oasis. So Pan-Darin, whom I 
informed of the results of this reconnaissance, sent word to the 
Beg of Tawakkel to produce the two hunters who had guided 
Dr. Hedin on his journey. On November 20 the Ahmad 
Merghen and Kasim Akhun, the men I wished to examine, 
were duly produced by the Beg himself, who had brought them 
to Khotan in person. Their examination in the presence of 


cHap. xv.| ANTIQUES BROUGHT BY TURDI 249 


Turdi, the leader of my pioneer party, left no doubt as to the 
identity of Dandan-Uiliq. I was thus able to arrange 
definitely the programme of my tour for the exploration of this 
site, which in view of the specimens secured by Turdi seemed 
the best place for commencing systematic excavations. 

Immediately after my return I visited my kind friend the 
Amban, and thanked him for the thorough-going help by 
which he had made my survey in the mountains possible. On 
that occasion I invoked again the evidence of the great 
‘Tang-Seng,’ in order to explain to Pan-Darin the object of 
my desert journey. When after two days he returned the 
visit I was able to show him the finds brought in by Turdi. So 
Pan-Darin by ocular inspection became convinced that I had a 
good guide in the famous old pilgrim, and promised to do all 
he could to further my explorations. I thought that I could 
not more fittingly express my gratitude than by wishing that 
the blessed spirit of Hiuen-Tsiang himself might reward the 
Amban for the assistance he was rendering me. Niaz, the 
interpreter, managed to reproduce this pious compliment 
better than I had expected; for the Amban answered it by 
asking quite seriously whether I believed in the continued 
existence of ‘ Tang-Seng’s’ soul! It seemed indeed that in’ 
the memory of Chinese Buddhists Hiuen-Tsiang lives like a 
glorified Arhat or Bodhisattva. If so, Indian archeologists 
would be still better justified in proclaiming him as their own 
patron saint. 

I had pitched my tent again in the garden of dear old 
Akhun Beg, my former host. But though the place gave the 
desired privacy it offered no protection whatever against the 
increasing cold. Tokhta Akhun’s house seemed too gloomy 
and close after the long journey in the free mountain air. So 
I preferred to put up for the time with the cold and to stick to 
my little tent outside. Many repairs of outfit, saddlery, &c., 
required my attention too; for the terribly rough tracks of the 
‘* Mountains of Darkness”’ and the wily ways of the yaks had 


250 ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS [cuap. xv. 


caused damage of all kinds. So the saddler, blacksmith, and 
tailor were kept busy under my eyes. Vendors of antiques, 
bringing seals, coins, old pottery, and similar small objects, 
mostly from Yotkan, frequently presented themselves. But 
of the ‘‘old books’’ none were offered. It seemed as if the 


particular ‘‘ treasure-seeker ’’ to whom I had reason to trace 


KHOTANESE 
WAITING FOR 
MEDICINES. 


them, credited me with a more inquisitorial turn of mind than 
was convenient for him—and his factory. 

But my days at Khotan were taken up not only with these 
avocations. There had been since I returned an increasing 
rush of people seeking benefit from my medicine case. 
Patients from among the local Begs and the Chinese officials 
could not be denied, and though my ‘‘ Tabloids” could 
scarcely effect the wonderful cures expected by these visitors, 


CHAP. XV.] MEDICAL FUNCTIONS 251 


they evidently spread my fame as a “‘ Hakim” throughout the 
district: From what I saw and heard Khotan seems to be a 
hotbed of diseases of all kinds. Numerous ‘“‘ cases” of a 
sickening type were daily brought to me, though rarely was I 
able to administer remedies from which I could expect any 
real good. A medical man would find here a splendid field of 
work, but I doubt whether his fees would suffice even. to 
balance the charities expected by a large portion of those 
seeking relief. Chinese mendicants and loafers were frequent 
among my patients, and their condition fully justified the 
requests for a present which were invariably made after I 
had attended to their ailments. I wondered whether the 
Chinese officials realized how detrimental to their régime 
must be the presence of large numbers of these destitute 
compatriots, living on charity and, no doubt, occasional loot. 

It was manifest that my desert campaign would necessitate 
a prolonged absence from the oasis. Accordingly I decided to 
make, previous to my start, a thorough examination of old 
localities within the oasis itself, with a view to settling its 
ancient topography. At the same time I decided to send out 
Ram Singh independently for a survey of the high range east 
of the Kuen-luen Peak No. 5, by which the gap could be filled 
that was left between our recent survey and the tract explored 
by Capt. Deasy about Polu. On completing this task within 
about a month Ram Singh was to march to Keriya and then 
join me eventually at Dandan-Uiliq. 

On the 28rd of November we both left Khotan. Our way was 
in common as far as Jamada, the village on the Yurung-kash 
which I had passed before when marching to Karanghu-tagh. 
I halted here for the night and received a cheerful welcome 
from Wang-Daloi, a Chinese acquaintance of my previous visit. 
For the last ten years the little Chinaman had lived there, 
trading in jade, which is washed from the Yurung-kash bed in 
the neighbourhood. He seemed to have ventured occasionally 
on speculative jade mining too, but fortune had never shown 


252 ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS [CHAP. XV. 


him favour; for my interpreter told me that he was still a long 
way from the sum that might take him back to Peking, apparently. 
the life ambition of this exile. I found in Wang-Daloi an intelli- 
gent guide to the old sites which extend from Jamada to the south 
alone the left river-bank, and also genial company, as he talked a 
little Turki. . Next morning I passed over the eroded old site 
known simply by the general designation of ‘ Tati,’ forming an 
area of about a square mile covered with fragments of pottery. 
Chinese coins up to the time of the Tang dynasty are also found, 
but of structural remains there was no trace. 

Some six miles beyond we entered the region of the jade- 
diggings. On the flat plain, from half a mile to one mile broad, 
which extends between the left bank of the river and a gently 
sloping ridge of gravel westwards, the precious stone is found 
among the beds of rubble deposited by the river at earlier 
periods. Jade is the produce that has made Khotan famous all 
over the east since ancient times. In China it has ever been 
valued more than anywhere else, and most of the information 
which the Annals of the Celestial Empire give about old Khotan, 
we owe mainly to the interest attaching to its jade. 

It was therefore with a good deal of interest that I examined 
the burrows crossing the barren plain in all directions. Tor the 
first mile or two they seemed to have been deserted long ago, as 
sand had partly filled the great hollows. But higher up we came 
upon diggings of more recent date not far from the old site 
known as Chalmakazan. A vast quantity of pottery fragments, 
mixed here and there with bits of broken glass and slag, strews the 
plain for about a mile and a half, from the river to the foot of the 
ridge. In the middle of this area a low mound, covered with large 
stones from the river bed, attracted my notice. Its round shape 
suggested a Stupa, and a closer examination proved this to be true. 
Unfortunately, others before me had guessed the nature of the 
structure, and a large trench run down into the very centre of the 
mound showed that ‘‘ treasure-seekers ’’ had been at work. The 
mound in its present condition has a diameter of about ninety-eight 


CHAP. XV. | JADE PITS OF CHALMAKAZAN 253 


feet, and rises about fifteen feet above the ground: From the 
excavation made, it could be seen that it was constructed of closely 
packed layers of rough stones as a base, with a circular wall of 
similar material above it. A kind of well in the centre filled with 
loose earth probably contained the relic deposit. 

There can be little doubt that the old settlement indicated by 
these remains was connected with the jade mining of the immediate 


JADE PIT WITH DIGGERS, NEAR DEBOUCHURE OF YURUNG-KASH. 


neighbourhood. On the southern edge of the site the jade pits are 
still worked. For a mile and a half we had to thread our way 
between them before reaching the little miners’ camp of Sinik- 
Toghrak, where I pitched my tent. The pits vary greatly in size 
and shape. Usually, a square or oblong cutting is made through 
the layer of gravel and river sand. At a depth from ten feet down- 
wards strata of rubble are reached, and in these search is made for the 
pieces of jade that the river once washed down. Finds of great value 


254 ANTIQUARIAN PREPARATIONS [CHAP. XV. 


occur very rarely ; but there is always the chance of sudden wealth, 
and this suffices to attract at all times ‘ Bais,’ 7.c., small capitalists 
from Khotan and other Turkestan towns. They engage parties of 
labourers, ten to thirty strong, from among the poorest of the 
agricultural class, and set them to work on a digging of proportionate 
size. The men receive food, clothing, and six Khotan Tangas (say 
two Rupees) as monthly pay. They have no share in the jade 
finds, but get extra rewards in case of special profits. According 
to Wang-Daloi’s testimony, many never see any return for the 
money they have sunk in these mining ventures. Yet from time to 
time great hits are made. A Kashgar Bai, whom I found at one of 
the diggings superintending his twenty men, acknowledged that 
during the last three years he had cleared a hundred Yambus of 
silver (say Rs. 13,000) worth of jade at an expense of some thirty 
Yambus, 

Though the Chinese administration exercises no control whatso- 
ever over the jade mining, ‘‘claims’’ once opened are scrupulously 
respected by other prospectors. I saw diggings which had been 
left partially unexploited for many years; yet I was assured that 
the right of the original workers would never be disputed. None of 
the diggings went to a greater depth than twenty feet from the 
surface; lower down, I assume, the water from the river would 
probably percolate and stop the work. The flat deposits along the 
river banks for a day’s journey up the valley, up to the point where 
the latter becomes a narrow gorge, are visited by jade-diggers. But 
the work is carried on only intermittently and by small parties at 
the various points which bear the general designation of ‘ Kumat.’ 
Now in the winter months only about two hundred men were 
engaged in mining, and even in the summer, when the privations 
of life in this barren region are less, the number probably is not 
more than doubled. 

Quite distinct from this jade-mining, the ancient industry of 
‘fishing’? for jade in the river bed after the summer floods still 
continues all along the valley above Jamada, just as described in the 
old Chinese chronicles. No capital is wanted for this kind of 


CHAP. Xv.] FAME OF KHOTAN JADE 256 


search ; so annually for a short period it attracts a laree number of 
the poorer agriculturists of the oasis, who look to it as a kind of 
lottery. Very few find their labours rewarded, but the hope of 
turning up a valuable piece of jade among the rubble is as strong 
now among the poor of Khotan as it has been for many centuries. 

The Annals of the old Chinese dynasties, from the Han period 
downwards, contain many curious data and anecdotes about the 
jade (‘yu’) which made the little kingdom of Yu-t’ien or Khotan 
famous in the Celestial Empire. Abel Réemusat, the Sinologist, 
collected and translated many of these notices in his Histoire de 
la ville de Khotan (Paris : 1820), and it was a satisfaction to me to 
read this earliest contribution to the European literature on Khotan 
near the very pits which furnish the precious stone so learnedly 
discussed in it. 


CHAPTER XVI 
YOTKAN, THE SITE OF THE ANCIENT CAPITAL 


My march on the 25th of November to Yotkan, the site of the old 
Khotan capital, took me over ground that I had partly seen before, 
but the day did not close without a novel, though somewhat annoy- 
ing, experience. Coming from the south, I had, within a couple of 
miles from my destination, passed two deep ravines, or ‘ Yars’ as 
they are called, cut into the loess beds by the action of flood water. 
Though the banks were steep, the ponies found no difficulty in 
crossing, and I did not give a thought to the question how the 
camels with the baggage would fare at these obstacles. I reached 
Yotkan, to which I had already paid a preliminary visit in October, 
about sunset, and selected a suitable ground for my tent close to 
the Yuzbashi’s house, overlooking the area where the excavations 
of treasure-seekers have laid bare the soil of the ancient capital. 
The best room of the well-to-do villager was quite a cosy place, with 
its carpets and coloured Khotan felts, and with a cheerful log fire 
burning in the little fire-place. So the time of waiting for the 
arrival of the baggage passed quickly at first. The Yuzbashi’s 
little red-cheeked son kept me company and amused ‘ Yolchi Beg,’ 
my faithful follower. 

At last, long after it had got pitch-dark outside, one of the camel 
men arrived—not with the eagerly expected animals, but with the 
news that they had stuck fast at the bottom of the first ravine and 
could not be got to move further. So a rescue party was despatched 


under the orders of the village headman. I have reason to suspect 
256 


CHAP, XVI. | FIRST DISCOVERY OF SITE 257 


that easy-going young man did not move far beyond the neighbours’ 
houses, but left the task to some myrmidons of his who managed to 
mistake the place and never came to help the belated party. 
When another hour had passed, Islam Beg and Tila Bai were 
sent out into the night. But it was not until about 10 p.m. that 
the unfortunate camels turned up at last. An attempt had been 
made to send on one of the animals that carried my tent and bed- 
ding, with the result that it slipped in crossing a canal and gave a 
thorough ducking to its load. When dragged out of its bath, this 
camel with the rest had to be taken by a great detour round the 
heads of the two ravines. The late arrival of the party was thus 
accounted for; but the explanation did not exactly console me for a 
half-wet tent, and bedding that had first to be dried. It was nearly 
midnight when dinner appeared, and some of the rugs had been 
made fit for use. 

The ravines which proved such an obstacle to my clumsy camels 
had little claim to my regard. And yet my archeological conscience 
felt grateful to them; for without the formation of one of them, 
known as the ‘ Yotkan Yar,’ that has cut through the fields of the 
village of Yotkan, the remains of the old Khotan capital might have 
been left buried for ages to come. From the statements of the old 
villagers which I tested with care in the course of my stay, I ascer- 
tained that no finds of any kind indicating that an ancient site was 
buried here below the ground had been made, until the time of Niaz 
Hakim Beg, the first governor under Yaqub Beg. Two or three years 
after his appointment, which took place about 1866, the small canal 
conveying water from the Kara-kash River for the irrigation of the 
Yotkan fields began to cut for itself a deeper bed in the soft loess, 
that is, to turn into a ‘ Yar.’ This is the origin of the ravine 
which begins about one and a half miles to the west of Yotkan at 
the village of Chalbash, and joins the Yars of Kashe about a mile 
to the east of the site presently to be noticed. A small marshy 
depression (‘ kul’) formed a little to the east of Khalche, as that 
portion of Yotkan is called which lies to the north of the excavated 
area, and there the villagers accidentally came across little bits of 

18 


258 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN [CHAP. XVI. 


gold amidst old pottery and other petty débris. The latter objects 
possessed, of course, no interest for them; but the gold naturally 
excited the cupidity of the villagers, many of whom had, like the 
rest of the poorer agricultural population, tried their luck ‘ pros- 
pecting ”’ for jade and gold in the river beds. So they set to wash 


NORTH-WEST CORNER OF EXCAVATED AREA AT YOTKAN, WITH ENTRANCE TO UYAR,” 


the soil near the incipient Yar, and the proceeds were so rich that 
they came to the governor’s knowledge. 

Niaz Hakim Beg was an administrator of considerable Sriberpree: 
He sent to Yotkan large parties of diggers from Kara-kash town 
whom he employed like the men working in the jade pits. The 
owners of the fields which were gradually cut away by these ‘‘ wash- 
ings,’ received compensation. Subsequently the excavations were 
continued by private enterprise, the usual arrangement being that 
the owners of the soil and the diggers share the proceeds equally. 
The earth excavated from the banks has to be washed, just like the 


CHAP. XVI. | WASHING FOR GOLD REMAINS 259 


river deposit. The larger supply of water needed for this purpose 
caused the Yotkan canal to cut its bed deeper and deeper and to 
form the extant Yar, the bottom of which is from twenty to thirty 
feet below the ground level.. Finally the canal had to be diverted 
to a higher level, but springs came to the surface at the bottom 
of the ravine, and these account for the swampy condition of the 
excavated area. In the recollection of old villagers the land of 
Yotkan was everywhere a level flat; there were no springs or 
swampy ground—nor any knowledge or tradition of the “old city”’ 
below. ; 

- Former travellers, who paid to Yotkan only a flying visit, have 
spoken of “the frightful ravages in the soil” and attributed them 
to some extraordinary flood catastrophes of which, it is true, they 
were unable to trace any recollection. But in reality the great 
extent of the excavated area which forms, as my careful survey 
showed, an irregular oblong of more than half a square mile, is 
almost exclusively due to systematic digging and washing for gold, 
as it still continues to this day on the north and west side. The 
banks there are yielding a small but ‘‘ paying’’ quantity of gold, 
and in recent years antiques, such as ornamented fragments of 
pottery, engraved stones, and coins have come to be counted as a 
kind of secondary products. The gold is usually found in tiny flakes 
of leaf-gold, of which I was able to secure samples. It is easily 
distinguished by the villagers from the gold-dust (‘ kepek-altun ’) 
washed from the river-beds. No gold coins or solid ornaments 
of gold and silver are admitted to have been found. But I have 
my doubts on this’ point, as the villagers or miners would have 
reason to be reticent about such finds. In any case it is acknow- 
ledged that during the first years and near the original spot the 
workings yielded rich quantities of gold. I myself subsequently 
purchased at Yotkan a tiny figure of solid gold of excellent work- 
manship, representing a monkey, that had been found during the 
year’s washings. Larger articles of this kind are doubtless melted 
down speedily after discovery. 

It seems at first difficult to account for the prevalence of gold in 


260 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN [CHAP. XVI. 


the form described and over so large an area. But the use of leaf- 
gold on an extensive scale in the decoration of statues and buildings 
offers a probable explanation. From the detailed description which 


Cc 


ANTIQUES FROM YOTKAN. 


A Terra-cotta head. B Relievo in ivory. C Fragment of relievo in stone showing 
seated Buddha ; also ancient Khotan and Chinese coins. D Terra-cotta vase 


with monkey-shaped handle. E Piece of decorated vase. (Scale one-half of 
originals.) 


the earlier Chinese pilgrim Fa-hien gives of the splendid Buddhist 
temples and monasteries he saw on his visit to Khotan (cire. 400 
A.D.), it is certain that not only images but many parts of sacred 


CHAP. XVI. ] ANCIENT COINS AND POTTERY 261 


buildings were richly overlaid with leaf-gold. Much of this must 
have fallen off and mingled with the dust when these structures 
crumbled away, not to be recovered until the soil could be washed 
by the method now followed. 

The stratum from which this gold is obtained consists of 
decomposed rubbish 
and humus, in which 
are embedded  frag- 
ments of ancient 
pottery, plain or orna- 
mented, bones of 
animals, pieces of 
much decayed wood, 
and ashes, all indica- 
tions that we have 
here the débris_ that 
accumulates on a site 
occupied by buildings 
for centuries. The 
copper coins, which are 
found plentifully, range 
from the bilingual 
pieces of the indigenous 
rulers, showing Chinese 
characters as well as 
early Indian legends 
in Kharoshthi, struck 


about the commence- 
TERRA-COTTA FIGURINES FROM YOTKAN, ment of our era, to 
(Monkeys playing musical instruments, eating, &c. Scale two- the square-holed issues 
thirds of original.) 

of the Tang dynasty 

(618-907 A.D.). The stratum which represents the deposits 
of these and possibly also of earlier centuries, shows a uniform 
brownish colour, but varies in thickness. On the south and west it 


is on the average from 5 to 8 feet deep. But on the north of 


262 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN [CHAP. XVI. 


the excavated area, the banks worked immediately below the 
houses of Khalche, where the proceeds in antiques, such as 
terra-cotta figurines, seals, &c., are richest, show a ‘* culture- 
stratum”? 13 to 14 feet thick. It is evident that this varying 
depth is due to the different length of the periods during which 
particular localities were occupied, and to the different character 
of the uses. to which they had been put. The frequency of pottery 
fragments and of bones also varies at different points. 

But in one respect all portions of the ‘ culture-strata ’’ exposed 
show a regrettable uniformity: nowhere did I come upon traces of 
remains of buildings, nor could I hear of such having been found 
during previous excavations. This is easily accounted for by the 
fact that, owing to the total absence of suitable stone, sun-dried 
bricks and clay supplemented by timber must have been in old days, 
just as now, the only obtainable materials for the construction of 
houses in the Khotan region. Whatever of the mud walls of build- 
ings had not crumbled into dust, was bound to decay completely in 
the course of the centuries during which the site was taken up for 
cultivation and the soil kept constantly moist by the percolation 
of irrigation water. The same fate overtook whatever of the wood 
once contained in the buildings had not been extracted and utilised 
by successive occupiers of the soil. It might have been different 
if the old town had been overwhelmed by some sudden catastrophe 
and its site left deserted. Then we should expect to find under 
the ruins the original materials preserved in a recognisable form. 
But there is nothing to support the assumption of such a catastrophe. 

The strata containing the old remains are everywhere covered 
by a considerable layer of alluvium from 9 to 20 feet thick at 
various points. This layer, which by its light colour is easily 
distinguished from the ‘ culture-strata” below and is absolutely ° 
free from remains indicating subsequent occupation of the site, 
interested me greatly. Some of the earlier Kuropean visitors 
to Yotkan have hazarded the assumption that the thick cover of 
earth under which the relics of the old town are hidden was due 
to a great flood, and they accordingly attributed its destruction to 


CHAP. XVI. | SILT OVER CULTURE-STRATA 263 


this supposed catastrophe. But a few hours’ careful examination 
of the excavated. banks sufficed to dispel such a notion once for all. 
Nowhere did I find the slightest trace of that stratification in the 
soil which such a flood or series of floods would necessarily have 
left behind. At every point the earth immediately above the 
‘ culture-strata ’’ proved exactly the same in substance and colour 
as that which is to-day turned up by the plough of the Yotkan 
cultivator. 

What, then, is the explanation of this deep cover under which 
the remains of this old town have rested? I think it is not far to 
seek. Cultivation in Khotan, as everywhere else in Turkestan, 
demands constant and ample irrigation; and as the river from 
which the water for the Yotkan fields is drawn in the spring and 
summer carries down enormous quantities of disintegrated soil from 
the mountains, the accumulation of silt over the fields on which the 
earth thus suspended is ultimately deposited, must be comparatively 
rapid. Thus the level of the cultivated portions of the oasis is 
bound to rise steadily ; and considering how near these lands are 
to the region where the river collects most of this silt on its 
passage through the outer ranges, the thickness of the deposit 
left during a thousand years can by no means surprise us. 

Observations I had occasion to make again and again after my 
first visit to Yotkan fully supported this explanation. Everywhere 
in the oasis I noticed that the main roads were sunk considerably 
below the surrounding level where they pass through cultivated 
land, while elsewhere, on waste or within the village areas, they 
kept flush with the adjoining ground, This low position of the 
roads is so uniformly observable and so marked that it is impossible 
not to seek for a natural cause. And none I could think of seemed 
more probable than that the level of the fields is constantly rising 
by irrigation, while that of the roads cannot undergo any marked 
variation. This observation led me to notice an equally characteristic 
fact—the low position of -all the old cemeteries that are surrounded 
by fields. Cemeteries of any age are easily distinguished by their 
extending around some Mazar or shrine, and in their case I 


264 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN [CHAP. XVI. 


invariably found a ground-level considerably below that of the 
neighbouring fields. This curious fact becomes easily intelligible 
if we remember that the fields are continually receiving a deposit 
of silt from irrigation, while the cemeteries are naturally kept clear 
of water and consequently of this accretion. 

The Yar which passes through Yotkan from west to east, and 
the excavations of the gold washers to the south of it, enable us 
to form some idea-as to the position and extent of the old town. 
The banks of the Yar cease to yield any remains about 200 yards 
below the houses of Khalche. Accordingly, digging has stopped 
there. In the south the diggings néar the portion of Yotkan 
known as Allama have been discontinued, as the ground did not 
yield the coveted gold in paying quantities. It is on the banks 
to the west and north-west that the work of washing the soil 
still continues vigorously, and it is under the fields lying in that 
direction that the remaining parts of the old town are likely to 
have been situated. The Yars which intersect the ground to the 
south and east of Yotkan nowhere cut through layers containing 
old remains. The negative evidence thus furnished excludes the 
idea of the town having ever extended in those directions. 

‘There can be no doubt that the site discovered under the fields 
of Yotkan is that of the old capital of Khotan, as already suggested 
by M. Grenard. The proof, however, does not lie in an alleged 
tradition of the villagers (this could only be a very modern growth 
if it really existed), but in the exact agreement of the site with the 
topographical indications furnished by the early Chinese Annals, 
and in the ease with which I was able to identify from this 
starting-point the positions assigned by Hiuen-Tsiang’s narrative 
to the most prominent Buddhist shrines he visited in the vicinity 
of the capital. 

On the morning of the 28th of November I started on a survey 
of the villages to the west of Yotkan, in order to trace, if possible, 
the positions of these sacred places. Nearest among them was the 
Stupa and convent of ‘ Sa-mo-joh’ which the pilgrim visited at 
a distance of 5 or 6 li (a little over a mile) to the west of the city. 


CHAP. xv1.] POSITION OF SA-MO-JOH CONVENT 265 


It was founded in honour of an Arhat who had by various miracles 
won the special worship of one of the first Buddhist kings of the 
country. Under its Stupa, which was a hundred feet high, a great 
collection of sacred relics from Buddha’s body had been deposited. 
Fa-hien also, two and a half centuries earlier, had seen this 
monastery, and describes ‘‘ the magnificent and very beautiful hall 
of Buddha” that rose behind its Stupa. Judging from what 
previous experience has taught me of the fate which has overtaken 
all ancient structures within the cultivated area of the oasis, I did 
not expect to find remains of what was undoubtedly only a pile of 
sun-dried bricks doomed to rapid decay. All the more delighted 
was I when among the villages westwards I heard the name of 
Somiya mentioned. Other phonetic analogies prove that this 
represents the direct derivative of the ancient local name which 
is intended by the Chinese transcription of ‘ Sa-mo-joh,’ and to the 
evidence of the name there was soon added topographical con- 
firmation. 

Leaving the excavated area of the ancient city at its north-west 
corner, I reached first the hamlet of Eskente half a mile to the 
west. There I was told of a ‘ Dobe’ or mound that exists near 
the cemetery of Somiya. The latter place I found to be situated 
only three-fourths of a mile further west, and to consist of some 
thirty scattered dwellings. I went at once to the local Mazar, 
which is surrounded by an extensive cemetery, and on asking for 
the ‘ Dobe’ was taken to a field adjoining its north-eastern corner. 
A little low mound, rising scarcely five feet above the surrounding 
ground, is respected by the villagers with a kind of superstitious 
fear, though it shares in uo orthodox way the sacred character 
of the neighbouring Mazar and cemetery. I soon had the oldest 
men of the village summoned to the spot, and in what they told me 
of the mound we may, I think, yet trace the last lingering recollec- 
tion of the ancient shrine that has left its name to Somiya. Shami 
Sope, a withered old man of about ninety, had heard from his 
father and grandfather, who had both died at a great age, that the 
little mound had ever been respected by the folk of Somiya as a 


266 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN [ CHAP. XVI. 


hallowed spot not to be touched by the plough-share. Some 
unknown saint is supposed to have sat at the spot, and evil would 
befall those who should touch the ground. The name of the saint 
is forgotten, and the villagers would not assert whether he rests 
under the mound or not. But the people of Somiya never pass 
without saying a prayer, and according to the testimony of Shami 


OLD VILLAGERS OF SOMIYA. 


Sope and his forebears, they have clung to this custom for the last 
two centuries. | 

I take it as a sign of the antiquity of the tradition that no name 
is assigned to the saint whose memory lingers about the ‘ Dobe,’ 
whereas the names of the three Mullahs who are supposed to 
sanctify the Mazar of the village are currently known to young and 
old. Nobody seemed to know of any other spot similarly surrounded 
with superstitious awe in the neighbourhood. Considering the 
concordant evidence of the name and position of Somiya, I think 
it highly probable that the worship of this nameless mound is the 
last trace left of the ‘Sa-mo-joh’ Stupa of Buddhist days. And if 


CHAP. XVI.] OLD LOCAL WORSHIP 267 


this assumption be correct, we have here another proof of the 
tenacity of local worship which in Khotan, as elsewhere in the Kast, 
has survived all changes of creed. 

The day’s search enabled me to identify in all probability yet 
another sacred site mentioned by the Chinese pilgrims. Hiuen- 
Tsiang saw at a distance of ten Li (two miles) to the south-west 
of the capital the monastery of ‘ Ti-kia-po-fo-na,’ which was 
distinguished by the possession of a miraculous statue of Buddha. 
The name in this case can no longer be traced, but exactly in the 
direction and at the distance indicated there lies the popular 
Ziarat of ‘ Bowa-Kambar’ visited by people from all parts of the 
Khotan district. I found it to consist of a large square cemetery 
enclosing the high mud tomb of the saint, who is supposed to have 
acquired holiness as the groom of ‘Ali Padshah.’ The level of 
the cemetery lies some twelve feet below the surrounding fields,— 
a certain indication of its antiquity according to my previously 
detailed observations. A grove of fine old trees faces the eastern 
entrance, and a row of booths testifies to the popularity of the fairs 
which take place here at the time of pilgrimages. 

Tt was dark when I returned from Bowa-Kambar, else I should 
have paid another visit to the still more popular shrine of nam 
Musa Kasim at Kosa, which I had already passed on my way from 
Ujat. Its position due south of Yotkan makes me suspect that it 
has taken the place of the Virochana-Sangharama which was 
famous in the days of Hiuen-Tsiang as one of the earliest sanctu- 
aries of Buddhism in Khotan. Its distance, a little over three 
miles from Yotkan, is somewhat in excess of the ten Li south of the 
capital which the pilgrim indicates as its position.. But then we 
do not exactly know the extent of the old city, and in any case 
there is no shrine of any note due south of Yotkan that comes 
nearer to the distance indicated. 

On the 29th of November I left Yotkan to return to Khotan town, 
where the preparations for my desert journey were now urgently 
calling me. It was a misty cold morning as I bade goodbye to 
my host the Yiizbashi and rode along the Yotkan Yar eastwards. 


268 ANCIENT SITE OF YOTKAN [CHAP. XIV. 


About two miles from the village I crossed by a bridge the fairly 
deep stream formed by the united waters of the Yars of Yotkan and 
Kashe, and on the other bank of the ravine reached the lands of 
Halalbagh, a collection of large hamlets which I was anxious 
to see once more, as a local tradition connects the site with the 
pre-Muhammadan rulers of the country. Close to the central 
hamlet there stretches a marsh, known as Aiding-kul, covering 
about a square mile. It is overgrown with reeds and fed by copious 
springs which form quite a little stream at the northern end where 
the marsh drains towards the Yurung-kash. 

Islam Beg secured me here a very intelligent guide in the person 
of Ibrahim Mullah, a man well known for his learning and piety. 
Though eighty-six years old at the time of my visit, he was still 
quite active. His comfortable embonpoint and his showy silk dress 
well-lined with fur showed plainly that, despite Koran and 
pilgrimages, he had not neglected the good things of this world. 
Ibrahim Mullah owns Turki ‘ Taskiras’ of the various Imams who 
are worshipped at the most popular of Khotan Mazars, and soon 
showed me in them chapter and verse for his assertion that it was 
at Halalbagh that there once stood the city of the ‘ Khalkhal-i 
Chin-u-Machin,’ the legendary heathen ruler of Khotan. According 
to the popular tradition recorded in these texts, the four Imams 
whose blessed bodies now rest in a famous Mazar at Hasha, killed 
this opponent of Islam, and his city became a waste. The shrine 
of Kum-i-Shahidan, about half a mile to the west of the marsh, is 
supposed to mark the spot where three hundred and sixty faithful 
followers of the Imams found martyrdom in the final struggle. 

According to Ibrahim Mullah, Mirza Abu-Bakr, the ruler of 
Kashgar and Khotan in the early part of the sixteenth century, 
had the old site excavated for the sake of its hidden treasures. 
He brought river-water to the place to enable his workmen to wash 
the soil,—just as is now done at Yotkan,—and in the hollow left 
by his diggings there formed the marsh of Halalbagh. No old 
remains of any kind are now found, and it is thus difficult to judge 
whether there is any historical foundation for the story. Mirza 


CHAP. XVI.] THE AIDING-KUL MARSH 269 


Abu-Bakr, about whose doings we are well informed by the 
Tarikh-i-Rashidi, the interesting chronicle of Mirza Haidar, his 
nephew, certainly carried on treasure-seeking operations on a great 
scale at various old sites in his dominions. But whether Halalbagh 
was really among the places he exploited, or whether his reputation 
alone induced the local literati to connect with his name the 
supposed origin of the Aiding-kul marsh, can scarcely be decided 
without tracing old remains at the site or earlier evidence of the 
tradition. The mound called ‘Nagara-khana’ (‘the hall of 
kettle-drums ’’) which rises to a height of about twenty-seven feet 
close to the southern edge of the marsh, is popularly supposed to 
represent a remnant of the ancient city wall. But on close 
examination it proved to be a natural bank of loess, without a 
trace of brickwork or other mark of artificial construction. 

The rigour of winter was now setting in rapidly. So I was glad 
to avail myself during the short halt at Khotan, which the final 
preparations for the desert journey demanded, of the shelter 
offered by Tokhta Akhun’s suburban residence. In its dimly 
lighted but tolerably warm rooms I was hard at work writing up 
accounts of my geographical and antiquarian observations for 
despatch to Europe, and carefully sorting and re-packing the 
baggage. In order to keep the camels, on which we should have 
to depend entirely for the difficult marches through the sands, as 
lightly laden as possible, I decided to leave behind in charge of 
Badruddin, the Afghan Aksakal, a depot of all stores and materials 
not immediately needed. The elimination was no easy matter. 
On the one hand it was impossible to estimate the length of 
time during which my explorations would keep me away from 
Khotan ; on the other it was clear that in the inhospitable regions 
in which we were to pass the winter, any deficiency in the neces- 
sary supplies and equipment might have a very serious effect 
on our health and thus hamper my movements. It was largely 
through the care bestowed on transport and supplies, that I was 
subsequently able to carry my operations so much farther from the 
Khotan base than originally anticipated. 


CAMELS STARTING FOR DANDAN-UILIQ. 


CHAPTER XVII 
TO THE RUINS OF DANDAN-UILIQ 


Tue morning of the 7th December, a misty and bitterly cold day, 
saw our start for the winter campaign in the desert. My goal was 
Dandan-Uiliq, the ancient site I had decided upon for my first 
explorations. To reach it I chose the route via Tawakkel ; 
for though longer than the track leading straight into the desert 
north-east of Khotan which Turdi, my ‘ treasure-seeking ”’ guide, 
was in the habit of following, it somewhat reduced the extent of 
actual desert-marching with its inseparable privations for men and 
animals. The first day brought me, at Yangi-arik, to the edge of 
the cultivated area north of Khotan town. The next two days 
were passed in dreary marches along the barren left benk of the 
Yurung-kash, where there was nothing to be seen but sand-dunes 
to the west and reed-covered strips near the winding. course of the 
river. 

It was getting dark when we crossed on the evening of the 
third day to the right bank and approached the southern end of 
the Tawakkel oasis. It was formed some sixty years ago by the 
construction of an irrigation channel, which takes off the river 
waters a few miles further south. It has since developed into a 


prosperous settlement estimated at some thousand households. 
270 


CHAP. XVII. | RECRUITING OF DIGGERS 271 


Its Beg, instructed in advance from Pan-Darin’s Yamen, had 
awaited me at the crossing, and now escorted me with an imposing 
array of followers to the southernmost hamlet. The big bonfires 
which lit wp our way, and the prevalence of wood in the :construc- 
tion of the houses indicated the proximity of the forest belt 
which accompanies the Khotan River on its course through the 
desert and furnishes a plentiful supply of wood to this outlying 
colony. 

On the following day I moved my camp to the Beg’s house at 
Atbashi, some six miles further north, where the arrangements 
were to be completed for the party of labourers I wished to take 
along as well as for our supplies. In view of the observations 
already detailed as to the rise of the ground level in the old 
cultivated area of Khotan, I was interested to note that in this 
comparatively recent oasis the roads and waste spaces lay nowhere 
more than about one foot below the level of the neighbouring fields. 
It was evident that the period of irrigation and consequent silt 
deposit had been too short here to permit of any appreciable rise 
in the level of the fields. Still less was I surprised to hear that the 
area of the colony might be greatly extended towards the desert by 
the construction of additional irrigation channels. The abundant 
supply of water which the river carries down during the spring and 
summer months might bring fertility to large tracts now covered by 
low dunes. But here, as elsewhere along the southern edge of the 
great Turkestan desert, there is no surplus of population available 
for such extended cultivation, nor an administration capable of 
undertaking fresh irrigation works on a large scale. 

Thanks to the stringent instructions issued by Pan-Darin, I 
was able to collect at Atbashi a party of thirty labourers for my 
intended excavations, together with four weeks’ food supply. 
Owing to superstitious fears and in view of the expected rigours 
of the winter, the cultivators were naturally reluctant to venture 
so far into the desert, though they appreciated the pay offered, 
14 Miskals per diem, which was more than twice the average wages 
for unskilled labour. Fortunately, the Amban’s authority was 


272 TO THE RUINS OF DANDAN-UILIQ [cuHap. xv. 


not to be denied ; and there were also the two Tawakkel hunters, 
Ahmad Merghen and Kasim Akhun, to inspire confidence. 

I had already from 
Khotan secured their 
services as guides, 
and soon found them 
most useful in looking 
after the labourers. 
They were indeed 
splendid men, inured 
to all hardships by 
their roving life in 
the desert and river 
jungle, and by their 
experience intelligent 
far beyond the horizon 
of the villagers. They 
did their best to con- 
vince the more faint- 
hearted that this 
season, when neither 
sand-storms nor thirst 
need be apprehended, 
was in reality the 


AHMAD MERGHEN AND KASIM AKHUN, OF TAWAKKEL. safest for the work I 
had in view; that 
travelling in so great a party they had nothing to fear from the 
‘Jins’ or demons of the desert; and that plenty of dead wood 
would be forthcoming to keep them from getting frozen to death. 

I on my part took care to select the physically fittest from 
among the men brought before me, and made the respective village 
headmen responsible for their being supplied with all needful warm 
clothing and food sufficient to last for four weeks. The liberal 

” 


cash advance I paid myself into the hands of each of my ‘‘ Levies 
facilitated these domestic preparations. In order to provide for 


CHAP. xvi.]|. PREPARATIONS AT TAWAKKEL 273 


professional help far away in the desert, I arranged to include 
among the labourers a young cultivator who had been to a Mosque 
school and had acquired the art of writing Turki, not according to 
any high standard of orthography, it is true, but still legibly. 
Another was used to practise tailoring in his spare hours, while 
a third was proficient in leather work and could look after the 
men’s boots. Each man had to bring his ‘ Ketman,’ the hoe in 
common use throughout Turkestan, which proved an excellent 
implement for excavation work in the sand. Steel shovels of 
German make I had brought along from Kashgar; but I soon 
found that, except where there was a risk of causing damage to 
buried remains, the ‘ Ketman’ to which the men were accustomed 
yielded much better results. 

For the carriage of the men’s food, supplies, and other impedi- 
menta the few camels I could spare were not sufficient. So a 
dozen donkeys were engaged which offered the advantage of 
needing a minimum of fodder. For the camels only a quantity of 
oil made of rape seed could be taken along. Half a pound daily 
of this evil-smelling liquid for each animal proved wonderfully 
effective in keeping up their stamina during the trying desert 
marches, when they had to go without grazing or fodder of any 
kind and sometimes for a number of days without water. Our 
ponies, for which the desert to be crossed offered neither sufficient 
water nor fodder, were sent back to Khotan in charge of Niaz, the 
interpreter. The dejected faces of my servants, when it was made 
clear to them that they would have to trudge through the sands on 
foot like myself, were truly amusing. 

A severe cold brought on by exposure made me glad for the 
day’s halt at Tawakkel which these various preparations demanded, 
and which was the last I could pass in comparative comfort. My 
attempt to utilise it also for getting rid of a troublesome tooth 
through the local barber’s help proved a painful failure. This 
worthy first vainly tortured me with a forceps of the most primitive 
description, then grew nervous, and finally prayed hard to be spared 
further efforts. Perhaps he had lost confidence in his hands and 

19 


274 TO THE RUINS OF DANDAN-UILIQ [cuap. xvi, 


instrument, since I had insisted on seeing them thoroughly cleaned 
with soap and hot water previous to the intended operation. 

When at last on the forenoon of the 12th December the camels 
were ready with the freshly packed loads and my troop of labourers 
duly collected, half the population of Tawakkel seemed to be 
assembled to witness our departure. Those who had come to wish 
luck and a safe return to relatives among my party followed us to 
the northernmost hamlet. Then beyond, where cultivated land gave 
way to scrub-covered low dunes by the river bank, the Beg of 


TAWAKKEL LABOURERS TAKEN TO DANDAN-UILIQ. 


Tawakkel, who escorted me with two picturesque attendants 
carrying falcons as a sign of his dignity, took leave. <A present of 
some Russian ten-rouble gold pieces was to reward him for the 
services he had rendered, not too willingly perhaps, but still 
effectively, and to assure his good will in keeping open our com- 
munications while we were in the desert. The first march was a 
very short one, to a deserted shepherd station (‘satma’) by the 
side of the river ; for following the advice of the guides, I wished to 
let all our animals have a plentiful drink in the evening before 
entering the sands eastward. On the following morning we struck 


CHAP. XVII. | START INTO DESERT 275 


to the east, and soon found the track marked by the footprints 
of the small advance party which I had sent ahead two days 
previously under the guidance of Kasim. He had orders to dig 
wells at all places suitable for camps, and after reaching the ruins 
of Dandan-Uiliq to push on to the Keriya Darya, whence Ram 
Singh was to join me. 

Marching in the drift sand was slow work, though the dunes 
were low, rising only to 6 to 10 feet in the area crossed during the 
first two days. The feet of men and animals sank deep at every 
step into the fine sand, and the progress of the heavily laden 
camels was reduced to about 14 miles per hour, In view of the, 
want of sufficient fodder and water, it was essential to save them 
all over-exertion; hence I soon found that the direct distance 
covered by a day’s march could rarely exceed 9 to 10 miles. The 
tamarisk and ‘ Kumush’ scrub which was plentiful at first, grew 
rare in the course of our second march, while the wild poplars or 
‘Toghraks’ disappeared altogether as living trees. Luckily 
amidst the bare dunes there rose at intervals small conical hillocks 
thickly covered with tamarisk scrub, the decayed roots of which 
supplied excellent fuel. Close to these hillocks there were usually 
to be found hollows scooped out of the loess soil, evidently 
by the erosive action of wind. These hollows, which reach down 
to at least 10 te 15 feet below the level of the little valleys 
separating the neighbouring sand dunes, offer of course the nearest 
approach to the sub-soil water. It was accordingly invariably in 
these depressions that Kasim’s advance party had dug their wells, 
which we also chose for our camping places. The water, which was 
reached after digging to an average depth of 5 to 7 feet, was very 
bitter at the first two camps and scarcely fit for human consumption. 
But as we moved further away from the Khotan River it became 
comparatively sweet. I have no doubt that geology would furnish a 
satisfactory explanation for this observation, which was well known 
to my guides as generally applicable to these parts of the 
Taklamakan and has been noticed already by Dr. Hedin. The 
supply of water furnished by these wells was decidedly scanty for 


276 TO THE RUINS OF DANDAN-UILIQ [cnap. xvu. 


so large a party as mine; and as it was stopped altogether by the 
damp soil getting frozen overnight, men had in the evening to be 
detailed gradually to collect spare water in two of my iron tanks 
where it could be stored as ice for use on the next day. 

The winter of the desert had now set in with full vigour. In 
daytime while on the march there was little to complain of; for 
though the temperature in the shade never rose above freezing point, 
yet there was no wind, and I could enjoy without discomfort the 
delightfully pure air of the desert and its repose which nothing 
living disturbs. But at night, when the thermometer would go 
down to minimum temperatures from O° to 10° Fahr. below zero, 
my little Kabul tent, notwithstanding its extra serge lining, was a 
terribly cold abode. The “‘ Stormont-Murphy Arctic Stove’? which 
was fed with small compressed fuel cakes (from London!) steeped 
in paraffin proved very useful; yet its warmth was not sufficient to 
permit my discarding the heavy winter garb, including fur-lined 
overcoat and boots, which protected me in the open. The 
costume I wore would, together with the beard I was obliged to 
allow to grow, have made me unrecognisable even to my best 
friends in Europe. When the temperature had gone down in the 
tent to about 6 degrees Fahr. below freezing-point, reading or 
writing became impossible, and I had to retire among the heavy 
blankets and rugs of my bed. There ‘ Yolchi Beg’ had usually 
long before sought a refuge, though he too was in possession of a 
comfortable fur coat of Kashmirian make, from which he scarcely 
ever emerged between December and March. 

To protect one’s head at night from the intense cold while 
retaining free respiration, was one of the small domestic problems 
which had to be faced from the start of this winter campaign 
in the desert. To the knitted Shetland cap which covered the 
head but left the face bare, I had soon to add the fur-lined cap 
of Balaclava shape made in Kashmir, which with its flaps and 
peak pulled down gave additional protection for everything 
except nose and cheeks. Still it was uncomfortable to wake up 
with one’s moustache hard frozen with the respiration that had 


cHAP. xvi.]} CAMPING IN WINTRY DESERT 277 


passed over it. Ultimately I had to adopt the device of pulling 
the end of my fur-coat over my head and breathing through its 
sleeve! Also in another way these first campings in the wintry 
desert brought some trying experiences. The tooth I had vainly 
endeavoured to get rid of at Tawakkel continued to cause trouble, 
and the neuralgic pains it gave me were never more exquisite than 
at night. The only remedy I had within reach to secure some rest 
was chlorodyne, and to take its drops I had need of water. But 
for this it was first necessary to melt the solid lump of ice contained 
in my aluminium tumbler, and the minutes which passed until I 
had secured over my candle the little quantity of liquid, were enough 
to benumb hands and fingers. 

On the evening of the fourth day after entering the desert, as 
we were pitching camp amidst desolate sand dunes covering dead 
tamarisk scrub, two of the men sent ahead returned to report that 
Kasim’s party had failed to trace the ruined site we were in search 
of. It was now the turn of old Turdi, my ‘ treasure-seeking’”’ 
guide and factotum, to prove his knowledge of this dreary region. 
He had only once in his life approached Dandan-Uiliq from this 
side, and had apparently, from a feeling of professional etiquette or 
pride, refrained from pressing his advice against the guidance of 
the two Tawakkel hunters. But he had more than once on the 
march told me that he thought our route was leading too far north, 
and now, on the plain avowal of their inability to discover our goal, 
I could see a gleam of satisfaction pass over his wrinkled face. A 
short conversation with the returned men sufficed for him to locate 
the point which Kasim’s party had reached, and early next morning 
they were sent ahead again with full instructions that were to guide 
Kasim back into the right direction. We ourselves set out later, 
now under the guidance of old Turdi, who, with an instinct bred 
by the roamings of some thirty years and perhaps also inherited— 
his father had followed the fortunes of a treasure-seeker’s life before 
him—found his bearings even where the dead uniformity of the 
sand dunes seemed to offer no possible landmark. 

Skirting the foot of several higher ridges of sand or ‘ Dawans’ 


278 TO THE RUINS OF DANDAN-UILIQ [cHap. xvit. 


running as usual from N.W. to S.E., we crossed in the evening a 
belt of ground where dead trees were seen emerging from heavy sand. 
Shrivelled and bleached as they appeared, Turdi‘and the men could 
recognise among them trunks of the ‘Terek’ or poplar, the willow and 
other planted trees, unmistakable proofs that we had reached the area 
of ancient cultivation. About one and a half miles further to the 
S.E. we came upon stretches of bare loess with an extensive line of 
hollows, curiously resembling a dry river course, yet undoubtedly 
only a result of wind erosion. In one of these steep-banked 
hollows we succeeded in digging a well, and thus saved ourselves a 
search in the dark for the spot which alone, according to Turdi’s 
knowledge, offered water in the immediate vicinity of the ruins. 
On the following morning, the 18th of December, after turning a 
ereat Dawan, Turdi guided us to this spot, and a couple of miles 
further south I found myself amidst the ruined houses which mark 
the site of Dandan-Uiliq. 

Scattered in small isolated groups over an area which my subse- 
quent survey showed to extend for about one and a half miles from 
north to south with a width of three-quarters of a mile, there rose 
from among the low dunes the remains of buildings modest in size, 
but of manifest antiquity. Where the sand had blown away, the 
walls constructed throughout of a timber framework with thick 
layers of plaster were exposed to view, broken down to within a 
few feet from the ground. Elsewhere in places covered by low 
dunes the walls could still be made out by the rows of wooden posts 
rising from the sand. All structural remains left exposed showed 
signs of having been ‘‘explored” by treasure-seekers, and the 
marks of the damage done by their operations were only too evident. 
Yet even thus the ruins, on a first hurried inspection, furnished 
unmistakable proofs of their character and approximate date. In 
the remains of frescoes which had once adorned the much-injured 
walls in some of the larger rooms, I could easily recognise represen- 
tations of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. These plainly indicated 
that I was standing in the ruins of Buddhist places of worship. 
Peculiarities in the style of the frescoes seemed to mark the last 


CHAP, XVII. ] FIRST SURVEY OF RUINS 279 


centuries preceding the introduction of Islam as the probable date 
when these shrines and the settlement to which they belonged had 
been deserted. And this conclusion received curious support on 
the first day by Chinese copper coins bearing the date of the Kai- 
yuen. period (4.D. 713-741), which were picked up under my eyes 
from the débris-strewn ground near the buildings. 

Old Turdi felt quite at home among these desolate surroundings, 
which he had visited so frequently since his boyhood. It was the 
fascinating vision of hidden treasure which had drawn him and his 
kinsfolk there again and again, however scanty the tangible reward 
had been of their trying wanderings. Yet the familiarity thus 
acquired with the silent relics of the past had developed in him an 
instinctive interest in all traces of the life that once reigned here. 
As he guided me among these ghostly wrecks of houses and 
answered the many questions I put to him about his own observa- 
tions, I could see the shy man grow more and more animated. It 
was evident from his communications that the conditions of the 
dunes were changing very slowly at this site. Consequently Turdi 
had no difficulty in recognising the places where he and his com- 
panions had been at work during previous visits. Luckily their 
scanty resources had never allowed them to overcome the difficulty 
experienced in carrying to this distant site supplies sufficient for a 
prolonged stay or to bring working parties of more than a few men. 

Hence the structures more deeply buried in the sand had escaped 
unopened. It was important to select these in the first place for 
my excayations, and I felt grateful for Turdi’s excellent memory 
and topographical instinct which enabled him readily to indicate 
their positions. Guided by this first rapid survey, I chose for my 
camp a spot from which the main ruins to be explored were all 
within easy reach. There were practical considerations which 
compelled me to make my choice carefully. For in order to keep 
my men at work as long as possible every day, it was necessary to 
spare them tiring tramps through the drift sand. It was still more 
essential that we should keep to a spot at which fuel could be 
readily obtained in the ample quantities I foresaw would be needed 


280 TO THE RUINS OF DANDAN-UILIQ  [cHap. xvi. 


for our long stay. The dead trees of ancient orchards could alone 
supply it, and their occurrence in various parts of the ruined site 
was very unequal. As soon as the baggage had been unloaded at 
the point which appeared best to answer these conditions, I hastened 
to despatch the camels under Ahmad Merghen’s guidance on their 
three days’ journey eastwards to the Keriya Darya. There in the 
jungle lining the river’s course they were to find the fodder they so 
badly needed, and to gather fresh strength for subsequent desert 
marches. The donkeys, too, which had carried the men’s food 
supplies, with the meagrest rations for themselves, were sent back 
to Tawakkel under the care of two of the villagers. 


CAMP IN THE DESERT, DANDAN-UILIQ. 


CHAPTER XVIII 
EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES 


On the morning of the 19th of December I commenced my excava- 
tions by clearing the remains of a small square building immediately 
to the south of my camp. Turdi knew it as a ‘But-khana’ or “‘temple 
of idols,’’ and well remembered once having searched it in his own 
fashion. But the sand, though lying only two to three feet high, 
had not been removed, and by laying bare the foundations and 
floor I could expect to gain useful preliminary knowledge as to the 
general construction and arrangement of such shrines. In this I 
was not disappointed. A careful examination of the remains of 


walls which were brought to light on the north and west sides 


showed that there had been an inner square cella enclosed by equi- 
distant outer walls twenty feet long, forming a kind of corridor or 
passage on each side. Both inner and outer walls consisted of 
hard plaster laid on a framework of wood and reed matting, which 
itself was held in position by massive square posts fixed at regular 
intervals. 

Of the manner in which the upper portions of the inner cella 
walls, long ago decayed, had once been decorated, T could not 


remain in doubt when fragments of flat stucco relievos, which must 
281 


282 EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES [CHAP. XVII. 


have originally belonged to plaques of regular patterns, turned up 
in dozens from the sand covering the interior. Mixed with fre- 
quently repeated architectural ornaments there were numerous 
reproductions in low relievo of the figure of Buddha, in the orthodox 
attitudes of teaching with hand raised or seated in meditation. 
Other small relievos showed attendant figures in adoration, such as 
the graceful garland-holding woman rising from a lotus and pro- 
bably meant for a Gandharvi, which has been reproduced on the 
cover of this book. Conventional as all these representations are 
and evidently casts from a series of moulds, they at once arrested 
my interest by their unmistakable affinity to that style of Buddhist 
sculpture in India which developed under classical influences. Nor 
was I less gratified to observe how well many of these small relievos 
retained the bright colours with which they had been painted. 
Equally reassuring proof of the preserving power of the desert 
sand was furnished by the remarkable freshness in which elaborately 
painted figures of Buddhist saints appeared on pieces of wooden 
posts and beams that evidently once belonged to the ceiling. 

The clearing of this single small shrine not only yielded some 
one hundred and fifty pieces of stucco relievo fit for transport to 
Europe, but supplied me with the indications I needed in order to 
direct the systematic excavation of structures more deeply buried in 
the sand. So when on the next day I proceeded to a group of small 
buildings buried below six to eight feet of sand by the slope of a 
fairly high dune, just half a mile south of my camp, I was able 
correctly to gauge their construction and character, though only the 
broken and bleached ends of posts were visible above the sand. 
They are seen in the accompanying photograph, which shows the 
place before excavation. The posts soon proved to belong to the 
walls of two temple cellas (marked as D. II.), once richly decorated 
with frescoes and stucco images. 

As their constructive features and adornment are typical of those 
observed in other shrines subsequently excavated at this site I shall 
describe them here briefly. The larger cella forms a square of ten 
feet inside, with a door opening from the north. The walls, which 


“NOLLVAVOXO 


mu0dHd ‘OITIN-NVGNVC LY ‘‘Il ‘d ‘ANIYVHS LSIHaddond AO SNINW 


283 


284 EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES [cuap. xvutt. 


here again were constructed of a wooden framework with layers of 
hard plaster on either side, showed a uniform thickness of six and a 
half inches. The cella was enclosed by a quadrangular passage 
about four and a half feet wide, with outer walls of the same 
materials. This passage, which almost certainly served for the 
purposes of the circumambulation (‘ pradakshina’) common to all 
traditional forms of Indian worship, also had its entrance in the 
centre of the north wall. The interior of the cella was once 
occupied by a colossal statue made of stucco and painted, which 
most probably represented a Buddha. But of this only the feet 
remained, about thirteen inches long, raised on an elaborately 
moulded oblong base about three feet high. The other parts of the 
statue had crumbled away long ago, and the fragments comprising 
parts of the legs and of the lower drapery which were found in the 
sand above the base broke at the slightest touch. Of the wooden 
framework, too, which once supported the heavy image, only the 
lowest part was still intact, fixed within the left foot. Each of the 
four corners of the cella was occupied by a draped stucco figure 
standing on a lotus-shaped pedestal. But of these statues only the 
one in the north-west corner was found intact up to the waist. 
A photograph of this cella, taken after the excavation, is repro- 
duced on p. 285. | 

The walls of the cella, which, judging from the size of the statue, 
must have been of considerable height, were decorated inside with 
frescoes showing figures of Buddhas or Bodhisattvas enveloped in 
large halos. As these too were over life-size, only the feet with 
the broad painted frieze below them showing lotuses and small 
figures of worshippers, could be seen on the walls. still standing. 
The colours looked faded and worn, as if the frescoes had been 
exposed for a considerable time before the protecting sand invaded 
the building. But the outlines, drawn mostly in a kind of terra- 
cotta colour on the fine-grained, well-prepared plaster surface, were 
still sharp and clear. The decoration of the outside of the cella 
walls consisted mainly of fresco bands containing small representa- 
tions of seated Buddhist saints in the attitude of meditation, only 


} 


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‘OIIIO-NVG 


NYd LY 


Seay 


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‘aNIUH 


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LSTHadnd 


40 V 


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286 EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES [cnap. xvi. 


the colours of the robes and halos varying. But amidst these 
conventional designs there was found a picture which, though 
much effaced, at once attracted my interest as representing some 
sacred legend, perhaps of a local character. It shows rows of 
youths riding on horses or camels each holding a cup in his 
outstretched right hand, while above one of the riders a bird, 
perhaps meant for a falcon, is swooping down on this offering. 
The popularity of the subject was subsequently attested by my 
discovery of a well-preserved painted tablet in another temple 
ruin on which a similar scene is figured. 

Frescoes of Buddhist saints over-lifesize, similar to those found 
in the cella, once adorned the inside of the walls enclosing the 
passage. Below them there ran a decorative frieze in which lotuses 
floating in the water and small human figures, perhaps meant for 
Nagas or deities of springs, supporting the feet of the sacred 
personages above, could still be made out. From the south wall 
of the passage I succeeded in removing the piece of painted plaster 
which is seen opposite, and which is now safely deposited in the 
British Museum. It shows the figure of a seated Buddha or 
Bodhisattva, occupying the triangular space left between the 
lower portions of two larger frescoes. The inscription painted 
beneath in black colour is in a cursive variety of the Brahmi 
script ; its language, however, like that of some other short in- 
scriptions found on the frescoed walls of the Dandan-Uilq ruins, 
is not Indian, but probably the same as appears in the Non- 
Sanskritic Brahmi documents I discovered at: this site. 

The excavations, when extended on the 21st of December to the 
remains immediately adjoining the west wall of the shrine just 
described, brought to light another Buddhist temple cella which, 
notwithstanding its smaller dimensions, proved particularly rich 
in interesting art relics. This little chapel, as it might be called, 
measured only 12 ft. 8 in. from north to south with a width of 8 ft. 
8 in., and had no enclosing square passage. Its walls, built of the 
usual wooden framework and plaster, were only 4 inches in thickness 
and had in consequence crumbled away to within a foot or two from 


CHAP. XVIII. | DECORATION OF CELLAS 287 


the ground, except on the east side, where the closely adjoining 
outer wall of the larger cella gave support, and on the south 
where a long platform, surmounted by a massive base for the 
principal image, had been built against the wall. Of the stucco 
statue which once occupied this base only the scantiest fragments 
could be found; for with a pedestal raised close on 4 ft. above 
the ground it must have long remained without the protecting 


FRESCO FROM OUTER WALL OF SHRINE, D. II., DANDAN-UILIQ. 


(Scale one-eighth of original.) 


cover of drift sand, as testified by the extremely friable condition of 
the few recovered fragments of coloured stucco that belonged to this 
image. The front of the base, which was nearly 38 ft. broad, 
proved to be flanked on either side by the half-detached figure of a 
lion, and was thus manifestly meant to represent the ‘ Simhasana,’ 
or ‘lion’s throne,’ on which ancient Indian tradition seated both 
heavenly and earthly rulers. The heads of the lions had decayed 


288 EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES [CHAP. XVIII. 


long ago, but the curls indicating the manes falling over the fore 
part of the bodies were still clearly recognisable. 

In the top layer of the sand which covered the south-eastern 
corner of the cella (shown by the photograph reproduced on p. 289), 
were found numerous small relievos in stucco, from 5 to 8 in. 
high, representing Buddhas or Bodhisattvas with the right hand 
raised in the attitude of teaching. The robes of these figures 
are painted reddish brown, the orthodox colour for the garb of 
Indian monks, while their heads are surrounded by halos in a light 
green shade. Some specimens were still attached to portions of 
a hard stucco ground, decorated in relievo with elaborate wreaths 
and rosettes and gaily coloured. It was evident that all these 
pieces once belonged to plaques which, perhaps in the form of large 
halos, had: adorned the uppermost part of the walls in this corner. 
The fact of these fragments being found in loose sand, several feet 
above the platform already referred to, is a clear indication that the 
interior of the little shrine had been invaded by the drift-sand while 
its walls were still intact to a considerable height. 

Comparatively well protected as this south-eastern portion of the 
cella was, the stucco image which once occupied the corner had 
decayed, just as in the case of the other three corners, down to the 
feet. These, however, as well as the elegantly moulded lotus- 
pedestal of circular shape, can still be made out in the photograph. 
Luckily this corner had afforded better protection for some other 
adornments of the shrine. On clearing the platform between the 
corner pedestal and the base of the principal statue, I found a 
small detached statue in stucco about 14 ft. high-and well preserved 
but for the head and arms. The photograph shows it placed 
subsequently on the main base. The seated figure represented in 
it must, by evidence of the carefully indicated dress, have been 
intended for a Buddha or Bodhisattva. The colour of the robe, a 
reddish brown, has survived very well. The small wooden board 
on which the image had been set up, evidently for the purpose of 
convenient transport, was still intact, and as the stucco too had 
kept comparatively hard I was able to risk its removal. Care- 


‘NOILVAVOXA WALAVY SOITIO-NVGNVC LY ‘‘ID 


pal 


br 
0 


NIYHS 


CTSIHddnd 


LO 


VITHO 


a 


TIVINS 


290 EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES  [cnHap. xvi. 


fully packed away in one of my mule-trunks, amidst cotton wool 
and plenty of soft country paper I had provided myself with at 
Khotan, the little statue accomplished its long journey to London 
far better than I had expected. 

At the foot of the principal base and leaning against it were 
found five painted panels of wood, all oblong, but of varying 
sizes. The largest measures 11 in. in length, with a height 
of 54 in., and has a thickness of about a quarter of an inch. 
Owing to their position near the ground the wood of these panels 
and also the thin layer of water-colour with which they are painted 
has suffered much, evidently through damp. For the same reason 
the removal of the crust of sand and siliceous matter which adheres 
to the surface proved a very delicate task. But even the imperfect 
cleaning I could attempt at the time sufficed to show that these 
little paintings represent personages of Buddhist mythology or 
scenes bearing on Buddhist worship and legends. On one of them 
two figures, evidently meant for Bodhisattvas, can be seen seated on 
lotus-flowers, with coloured vesica and halo behind them. In 
another I could, notwithstanding the much-faded outlines, recognise 
the quaint features of that popular figure of the Indian pantheon, 
the elephant-headed god of learning, Ganesha. A third panel 
exhibits the figure of a dancing-woman, drawn in full movement 
and with remarkable freedom. From the head, which is thrown 
back, there flows downwards a quantity of black tresses, while the 
left hand holds the loop of a sash or veil poised in graceful curve 
over the head. 

These painted tablets, like all the others subsequently discovered 
at the bases of sacred images in ruined temples of Dandan-Uiliq, 
were undoubtedly still in the same position in which they had ori- 
ginally been deposited as the votive offerings of pious worshippers. 
And curiously enough, as if to show the care which must have 
been taken by the last attendants of the little shrine to keep 
the sacred objects clear of the invading dust and sand, I discovered 
several ancient brooms both near the principal base and in other 
parts of the cella (reproduced p. 878). They were about 16 in, long 


CHAP. xvill.] PAINTED PANELS AND RELIEVOS 291 


and constructed in a very ingenious way from stalks of some 
hardy grass. At their bottom these stalks were plaited into a 
continuous strip subsequently rolled up tightly and bound round 
with twisted grass, while their feathery ends, being thus brought into 
a bunch, form a convenient birch-like broom. The sand against 
which these humble implements were once used to wage war had 
been the means of preserving them in almost perfect condition ; 
and the same was the case with another curious relic, a little cloth 
bag filled with fragments of bones and human teeth, which turned 
up in the south-eastern corner close to the small seated image 
already described. Had they been brought here by some visitor 
as reputed relics of the body of a saintly personage, or were they 
ex-votos deposited with some superstitious object ? 

As the work of clearing proceeded along the east wall of the 
cella it revealed a series of very interesting frescoes, together with 
a relievo statue in stucco of a peculiar character. As seen in the 
photograph it is a male figure, complete but for the head and left arm, 
standing close to the platform already mentioned and over the body 
of a prostrate foe. The figure, which measured a little over 3 ft. 
from the heel to below the arm-pit, is clad in a coat of mail 
reaching below the knees and elaborately decorated. The gay 
colours of the successive rows of small plates which form the mail, 
alternately red-blue and red-green, were remarkably well preserved, . 
and not less so all the details of the ornaments which are shown 
along the front and lower edge of the coat and on the girdle around 
the waist. Even the arrangement of the rivets which join the 
plates of mail, and the folds of the garment protruding below the 
armour, are indicated with great accuracy. There can be no doubt 
that the artist has carefully reproduced here details of armour and 
dress with which he was familiar from his own times. The feet, 
which seem to be clad in wide top-boots of leather, just like the 
‘Charuks’ still worn throughout Eastern Turkestan, are placed 
over the contorted body manifestly of a vanquished demon. The 
features of the latter's head, which alone is raised somewhat from 
the ground, with the eyes wide open and the teeth displayed, express 


992 EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES [cwap. XvIIt. 


terror. The representation of the thick hair by elaborately worked 
spiral tufts strongly reminded me of the treatment of the hair in 
many a sculpture of Graeco-Buddhist type familiar to me from the 
Lahore Museum. The body appears to have been painted dark 
blue, but owing to the low position of this relievo the stucco 
retained little of the original coating of colour. The standing 
figure probably represents one of the Yakshas, or divine ‘‘ guardians 
of the gate’? popular in Buddhist mythology. 

The cella wall immediately adjoining this relievo group revealed 
a series of small fresco paintings which, by their unconventional 
subjects and their spirited drawing, at once attracted my attention. 
The one to the left of the mail-clad statue shows a woman bathing 
in a square tank of water, enclosed by a tesselated pavement and 
filled with floating lotuses. The figure is nude, except for a large 
red headdress resembling an Indian Pagri and profuse ornaments 
round the neck, arms and wrists, and is drawn with remarkable 
verve in simple yet graceful outlines. The right hand with its 
shapely fingers rests against the breasts, while the left arm is 
curved down towards the middle of the waist. Fourfold strings of 
small bells are shown hanging around the hips, just as seen in 
representations of dancing-girls in early Hindu sculpture; while, 
curiously enough, an elaborate vine-leaf appears where post-classical 
convention would place its fig-leaf. The face of the bather is 
turned to her proper right, down towards a small male figure, 
apparently a boy, who is shown as if trying to rise from the water 
by holding to her side. 

The delineation of the lotus-flowers which rise from the tank in 
a variety of forms, closed or half-open, as well as their colours, 
ranging from dark blue to deep purple, seemed remarkably true to 
nature, and distinctly suggested that these sacred flowers were 
familiar to the painter from personal observation. IT remembered 
the splendid tank of lotuses [ had seen at the Tao-tai’s Yamen in 
Kashgar which had been grown from seed imported from China. 
in view of this pictorial representation I feel convinced that 
already ancient Khotan had known the graceful plant dear to the 


CHAP, XVIII. | SCENES OF FRESCOES 293 


gods of India. Considering the close historical connection between 
Kashmir and Khotan which the local traditions recorded by Hiuen- 
Tsiang indicate, it needs no effort of imagination to believe that 
the lotuses that once adorned the gardens of settlements now buried 
by the desert sand were originally derived from the great Himalayan 
Valley, on the lakes of which I had so often admired them. 

The appearance of a riderless horse in front of the tank and 
some other features of the fresco suggest that its subject may 
perhaps be identical with the curious legend which Hiuen-Tsiang 
relates of a Naga lady residing in a stream east of Khotan and 
of her strange wooing by a pious mortal. But the point is too 
uncertain to permit more than an allusion here. 

Of the adjoining frescoes, however, it is impossible to mistake 
the significance. A well-drawn though now much effaced male 
figure of youthful appearance, seen seated in cross-legged fashion 
and dressed in a dark-blue cloak that leaves the right shoulder 
bare, is manifestly that of a Buddhist scholar. His right hand 
holds the oblong leaves of a‘ Pothi,’ or manuscript book arranged 
in the traditional Indian fashion, on which the eyes are fixed in 
intent study. By the side of this figure and likewise turned to the 
proper right, an old man is depicted in the act of teaching. His 
robe, which seems to be made up of patches of varying shades of 
brown, curiously suggests the orthodox garb of mendicant monks 
of all Indian sects, termed ‘ chiravastra’ in Sanskrit. While the 
right hand, with the second and third fingers stretched out, is 
‘aised in the gesture of teaching, the palm of the left supports 
a closed ‘Pothi.’ The two boards of thin wood between which 
the leaves are placed after a fashion still commonly observed in 
the case of Sanskrit manuscripts, are quite distinctly marked. 
The cleverly drawn features of the old man’s face seem to express 
complacent assurance in his teaching and full abstraction in its 
subject. In front of him, too, a tank is shown with open lotuses 
floating on the surface. Two birds, looking like wild geese, dis- 
port themselves in the water, and with necks marked dark-blue and 
green, raise their heads towards the old teacher. 


294 EXCAVATION OF BUDDHIST SHRINES [cwap. xviu. 


To remove any portion of these interesting frescoes proved quite 
impracticable, owing to the friable condition of the plaster on which 
they were painted. Nor can it, in view of the faded state of the 
colours, be surprising that the photographs which I secured of 
them do not permit of satisfactory reproduction by any mechanical 
process. But drawings have been made from these as well as 
other photographs of Dandan-Uiliq frescoes by the hand of my 
artist friend, Mr. F. H. Andrews. These, when published in my 
Detailed Report, will, I hope, render it easier to judge of the re- 
markable resemblance which, in style of composition and the 
drawing of figures, exists between these frescoes and the later of 
the Indian paintings in the cave temples of Ajanta. 

Little, indeed, of early Indian painting has survived in India 
itself. Hence all the more interest must attach to the specimens 
which the frescoes and painted tablets of Dandan-Uiliq shrines 
have preserved for us of that selfsame Indian art as transplanted 
to the Buddhist region of Khotan. 


ROOM OF MONASTIC DWELLING, D. III., DANDAN-UILIQ, FIND-PLACE OF ANCIENT 
MANUSCRIPTS. 


CHAPTER XIX 
FIRST FINDS OF ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS 


Ir had not needed the discovery of the pictorial representation of 
‘Pothis’ to make me eagerly look out for finds of ancient manu- 
scripts. None had turned up during the excavations of the first 
three days. But as if to revive my drooping hopes, a painted 
tablet, badly defaced by decay and accretion of siliceous matter, 
which was found in the last cleared cella, displayed a narrow strip 
of paper with three lines of Indian Brahmi characters sticking to 
the top edge and running transversely across the panel. The 
paper, which, as it covers part of the painting, is plainly proved 
to be a subsequent addition, had decayed even more than the 
tablet itself. While on the latter two female figures, each holding 
a swathed infant, could just be made out, it was impossible to read 
more than a few detached characters in each line of the rotten 


paper. But these letters were in a bold literary hand, very 
295 


296 FINDS OF ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS  [cwap. x1x. 


different from the cursive writing seen below a few of the frescoes, 
and clearly suggested a Sanskrit text. 

The little temples so far excavated had shown me something of 
the cult and art which this sand-buried settlement possessed before 
its abandonment. But for indications of the conditions of every- 
day life and for other documentary evidence it was manifest that L 
should have to turn to remains of a different character. So, on 
the 22nd of December, I directed my men to the excavation of a 
structure close by, which by its position and ground-plan as 
deducible from the arrangement of the wooden posts that were 
seen sticking out above the sand, appeared to suggest an ancient 
dwelling-place. It lay about twenty yards to the north-west of the 
temple-cella last described, just at the northern end of a sand-dune 
which, with its crest, rose to a height of fully 16 ft. above the 
original ground level. The bleached trunks of dead fruit-trees, 
which were visible around where the sand was less high, indicated 
that this building, together with the cellas already excavated, had 
stood in the midst of an orchard or garden. The digging started 
on the west side soon brought to light the top part of massive and 
fairly well-preserved walls in wood and plaster, belonging to what 
was evidently the lowest storey of a dwelling-house. The apart- 
ment formed by them had been an oblong of 23 by 20 ft., and 
about 10 ft. high. The photograph at the head of this chapter 
shows a part of it after excavation. 

By noon, at a depth of 2 ft. from the surface, a small scrap 
of paper showing a few Brahmi characters was found in the loose 
sand which filled the building. I greeted it with no small satisfac- 
tion as a promise of richer finds. In order to stimulate the efforts 
of my labourers, who, with the sand continually falling in from the 
side of the adjoining dune, had no easy task in effecting a clearance, 
I offered a small reward in silver to the man who should be lucky 
enough to hit upon the first real manuscript. Barely an hour later 
a cheerful shout from one of the men working at the bottom of the 
small area so far excavated on the north-west side of the apartment 
announced the discovery of a ‘ Khat,’ or writing. 


— 


CHAP. XIX.] FIRST LEAF UNEARTHED 297 


Carefully extracted with my own hand and cleared of the 
adhering sand, it proved a perfectly preserved oblong leaf of 
paper, 18 inches long and 4 inches high, that had undoubtedly 
formed part of a larger manuscript arranged in the shape of 
an Indian ‘ Pothi.’ The circular: hole intended for the string 
that was passed through the separate leaves in order to keep 
them together and preserve their order is placed on the left side of 
the leaf, as in most of the ancient manuscripts that have previously 
been acquired from Chinese Turkestan. The six lines of beauti- 
fully clear writing which cover each side of the leaf show Brahmi 
characters of the so-called Gupta type, but a non-Indian language. 


* The photograph reproduced on p. 298 shows one side of this leaf. 


While the men gathered around to watch me cleaning the 
precious find I heard more than one humorous remark about the 
chance which had placed this first ‘Khat,’ as well as the cash 
reward for it, in the hands of the youth who alone of the party 
could read and write, and whom, as already related, I had brought 
along from Tawakkel just on account of these acquirements. Niaz, 
our ‘Mullah,’ to give him his proud title (he is seen kneeling on 
the extreme left in the group reproduced in my photograph, p. 274), 
was himself beaming with boyish delight at his good luck, and 
subsequently did his best to prove worthy of it by additional care in 
digging and in penning my Turki ‘ despatches.” 

The interesting find just described was made at a depth of 
about 5 feet from the surface and close to the rough wooden post 
seen upright on the left side of the apartment as photographed after 
excavation p. 295. It was quickly followed by a series of other 
manuscript finds, either in loose leaves, more or less complete, or in 
little sets of fragments. They all showed Brahmi writing of an 
early type and had, as their conformity in paper, size and hand- 
writing showed, originally belonged to at least three distinct ‘ Pothis,’ 
or books. Their contents were soon recognised by me as Sanskrit 
texts treating of Buddhist canonical matter. The position in 
which all these nianuseript pieces were found, embedded in loose 
sand several feet above the. original flooring, proved beyond all 


(qnurbr.10 fo sp..vyq-0M} 279g) ; 
‘IE ‘@ Woud ‘(VMIGHHOOVULVA) LIMMSNVS NI LXGL IStnaaad 40 ‘yey ‘Ill ‘ad ‘aVHT FO NOILYOd JO ASUMAAO 


(qoubr0.o fo sygfy-0m} 21098) 
IIT ‘d ‘ONVTITHMG OILSVNON WOU ‘APVYAYNVI NVIGNI-NON NI ‘) ‘II *@ ‘EdIYOSONVN INHVUd 40 AVaT 


298 


cHAP. xIx.]| DISCOVERY OF SANSKRIT ‘POTHI’ 299 


doubt that they could have got there only by accident. Their 
distribution in varying depths and places suggests that they had 
fallen in from an upper storey, while the basement was gradually 
filling up with drift-sand. This assumption was fully borne out by 
the small pieces of felt, leather, oileakes (‘kunjara’), and similar 
refuse which turned up in the same layers. The pagination 
numerals which I could make out on the margin of some leaves, 
and which in one instance go up to 132, plainly showed that the 
pieces thus rescued were mere fragments of larger texts which had 
probably perished with the destruction of the upper floor. 

The earlier these fragments had reached the safe resting-place 
offered by the sand-covered basement, the more extensive they 
might reasonably be expected to be. So I watched with growing 
eagerness the progress my men made on the 23rd of December in 
clearing the sand nearer down to the original floor. It was no 
easy task, for the drift-sand from the slope of the dune to the 
south was ever slipping to fill the space laboriously cleared, and 
as the wall on that side had apparently decayed long ago, addi- 
tional exertions were needed. As the work proceeded towards 
the centre of the room a massive beam of poplar wood, nearly a 
foot in thickness, was laid bare. Its length, close on 19 feet, 
and its position showed that it had once stretched right across the 
room, undoubtedly supporting its roof. Two well-carved octagonal 
posts with bell-shaped capitals surmounted by a circular band, in 
which I easily recognised the Amalaka ornament of Indian archi- 
tecture, had turned up before; they lad undoubtedly served to 
support this central beam. 

A little beyond the latter, towards the east, the men clearing the 
sand just above the floor came upon a closely-packed bundle of 
manuscript leaves, evidently still retaining the order they had 
occupied in the original ‘ Pothi.’ <A little later two more packets 
of leaves belonging to the identical manuscript were brought to 
light, practically intact, though the action of moisture to which 
these leaves must have once been subjected, owing to their position 
not far above the ground, had stuck them closely together and made 


300 FINDS OF ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS — [cHap. XIX. 


them so very brittle that their successful separation could only be 
accomplished in London through the expert help of the Manuscript 
Department of the British Museum. The ends of the leaves had 
been bent over near the usual string-hole already referred to, and 
had often got detached through this folding of centuries; but they 
could be fitted again without difficulty to their proper places. 

The leaves in their complete state measure 14 inches in 
length and show on each side six lines of bold Brahmi writing of 
the so-called Gupta type. The text, which is Sanskrit, deals with 
some subject of Buddhist ‘Dharma,’ or canonical law. In view of 
the extent of the well-preserved portions it will in all probability 
permit of an exact identification by Dr. A. F. Rudolf Hoernle, the 
distinguished Indologist, who has undertaken the decipherment and 
publication of all manuscript materials in Brahmi characters dis- 
covered by me. [While these pages are passing through the 
press, Dr. Hoernle informs me that he has recognised in this 
manuscript almost the whole of the Vajracchedika, a famous Sutra 
text of the Mahayana School of Buddhism.] Certain paleographic 
features of the writing, which need not be set forth here in detail, 
make it difficult to assign to this and the other Sanskrit manuscripts 
recovered from this ruin a date later than the seventh century A.D. 
But as far as other observed criteria go, some of them might well 
have been written a century or two earlier. 

The religious character of their contents makes it appear highly 
probable that these manuscripts formed part of the library of a 
Buddhist monastic establishment, or ‘ Vihara,’ that had once 
oceupied the structure and no doubt supplied the attendant priests 
for the adjoining small temples. That the basement room I was 
actually excavating had offered only accidental shelter to these 
fragmentary relics of Buddhist literature, and had originally served 
the more prosaic purposes of a cook-room for the little monastery, 
became abundantly clear as the work of clearing proceeded 
towards the east wall. Built against the latter we found a big 
fireplace, constructed of hard plaster with an elaborately moulded 
chimney that reached to a height of over 6 feet from the floor. 


CHAP xIx.]| COOKROOM OF MONASTIC DWELLING 301 


By the side of it a broad wooden bench filled a kind of recess. 
Judging from a similar arrangement still observed in Turkestan 
houses, and from the broken pottery discovered below it, this bench 
probably served for the handy storing of cooking utensils. In front 
of it, and not far from the fireplace, there stood a rough wooden 
tripod, such as is still used thoughout the country to support large 
water-jars required for kitchen purposes, while a short post with 
branching head, which I found fixed-in the ground close to where 
the first manuscript leaf was discovered, certainly served to hang a 
kettle from. Remains of animal bones, oilcakes, and small layers of 
charcoal found scattered over the floor in various places fully bore 
out the conclusion indicated. 

My attention was still fixed on the manuscript remains that were 
successively emerging from the depth of this sand-buried dwelling, 
when at noon of the 23rd of December the sound of a distant gun-shot 
was heard over the silent dunes eastwards. Old Turdi, who with 
me was keenly watching the excavation work, at once interpreted 
the faint sound as a signal that Ram Singh was approaching from the 
direction of the Keriya Darya. An hour later the Sub-Surveyor was 
by my side, together with faithful Jasvant Singh, his Rajput cook 
and companion, both manifestly as pleased as I was at our success- 
fully effected junction. Considering the distances covered and the 
various incidents for which it was impossible to make proper 
allowance in our respective programmes, the rendezvous I had 
arranged for had been kept most punctually. 

I was greatly relieved to find from Ram Singh’s report that he 
had fully carried out the topographical task I had assigned to him, 
and had experienced no difficulties from either the Chinese or the 
native local authorities. Marching back by our former route to 
above the Pisha Valley, he had effected a supplementary triangula- 
tion of the great peaks above the headwaters of the Yurung-kash. 
He had then made his way north of the massive of Peak K. 5, or 
‘Muztagh,’ to the slopes of the great glacier-crowned range which 
sends its numerous streains down to the small oases fringing the 
desert west of Keriya. By plane-table work and triangulation 


302 FINDS OF ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS — [owap. xix. 


carried across the elevated spurs which descend from this range, 
he had succeeded in connecting our surveys eastwards with the 
work done by Captain Deasy around Polu. In accordance with my 
instructions he then proceeded to Keriya, and thence a fresh 
‘Darogha’ supplied as a guide and escort by the local Amban had 
taken him through the jungle belt flanking the Keriya River down 
to the point where he fell in with the party I had sent ahead under 
Kasim, the hunter. 

Ram Singh, reticent at all times, had little to relate either that 
day or thereafter of the mountain tracts he had passed through, 
apart from topographical details which appealed. to his professional 
training, and which had already been duly recorded in his plane- 
table ‘‘ sections.” That his little party had undergone considerable 
hardships both on account of the cold and the want of all local 
supplies, I could readily believe from my own experience. But 
what had evidently impressed him more than anything else, and 
what prompted him toa short outburst of quite unusual communica- 
tiveness, was the weird desolation of the desert, the total absence 
of life of any kind among the high waves of sand he had crossed 
since leaving the banks of the frozen river. I could see that the 
curiosity excited by the manifestly Indian character of the sculp- 
tures and paintings I had unearthed was by no means sufficient to 
counter-balance the uncanny feelings which these strange sur- 
roundings, pregnant with death and solitude, had roused in my 
otherwise hardy Hindu followers. I did my best to cheer them by 
sending as a welcome gift when their camp was pitched such little 
luxuries as I had—packets of my own compressed tea, some frozen 
egos, raisins and almonds, &c. 

In the evening when the dusk had put a stop to excavation and I 
could tramp back through the sand to the shelter of my little tent, 
IT lost no time in sending for Ram Singh to examine his plane-table 
work. A comparison of the position indicated in it for Dandan- 
Uiliq with my own fixing of the site would be a decisive test for 
the accuracy of our respective surveys. Considering the very 
deceptive nature of the desert ground over which we had carried so 


CHAP. XIX.] RENDEZVOUS IN DESERT 303 


much of our route traverses, I could not help feeling uneasy about 
the result. All the greater was my delight when I ascertained that 
the difference between the positions which our wholly independent 
surveys showed for our actual camp, amounted only to about half a 
mile in longitude and less than a mile in latitude. If it is taken into 
account that, since leaving our common camping-place in Khotan, 
Ram Singh had brought his survey over approximately 500 miles of 
route (on which for the last 130 miles or so no intersections could 
be obtained owing to the absence of all prominent landmarks), 
while my own marches extended over about 120 miles, and lay 
almost wholly through desert, this slight difference represents in 
reality a very striking agreement. It could not fail to assure me 
as to the accuracy of our survey work even far away in the desert 
sands where the frequent dust-haze, if not the great distances from 
any elevated point, practically exclude all hope of exact checks by 
means of triangulation. 3 

Neither Ram Singh nor Jasvant Singh took at first kindly to 
life in the wintry desert. They both complained bitterly of the 
badness of the water which our single brackish well yielded. 
With the true Indian belief in the omnipotence of ‘ pine-ka pani,’ 
they were eager to ascribe to this sole factor the unpleasant 
symptoms for which the combination of trying climatic conditions 
and previous fatigues and exposure were mainly responsible. 
Jasvant Singh, probably in consequence of the total want of fresh 
vegetables, showed signs of an incipient scorbutic affection, which, 
however, I was soon able to stop by the administration of lime juice 
I had brought with me from Gilgit. That it had first to be melted 
did not reduce the effectiveness of this remedy. 

For Ram Singh, who anticipated a return of the rheumatic 
complaint which he had originally contracted while employed on 
Captain Deasy’s explorations, the work requiring plentiful moye- 
ment which I could assign to him in the preparation of a general 
survey of the ruins and of detailed plans of the structures excavated, 
proved perhaps the best antidote. He subsequently stood the 
undoubted hardships which our winter campaign in the desert 


304 FINDS OF ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS — [omap. xx. 


entailed far better than I had ventured to hope. He also bravely 
held out against the pains inflicted by his old enemy, when at last in 
the spring it seriously attacked him. Nor did my servants from 
Kashgar and Yarkand, though better prepared for the rigours of 
the desert winter, escape without suffering from the inevitable 
exposure. One after the other in the course of this and the next 
two months was attacked by painful swellings on the legs or arms, 
resulting in large boils, which for the time being incapacitated the 
victim from any useful service. 

Old Turdi, whom many former ‘treasure-seeking’ expeditions 
had inured to heat and cold alike and to all sorts of privations, 
was not likely to come on the sick list. Yet the quaint pleasure 
he took in showing me over what I used jokingly to call his own 
village and temples, and the honest pride that lit up his wrinkled 
face whenever I had occasion to appeal to his quasi-antiquarian 
instinct and his experience of desert conditions, were soon overcast 
by a cloud. Its real significance I failed to comprehend during 
my first few days at these ruins. While I felt overjoyed by the 
interesting discoveries which the first excavations had yielded, poor 
Turdi Khwojam (‘my pious Sir Turdi’), “the Aksakal of the 
Taklamakan,”’ as we soon got to call him, was contemplating with 
sad apprehension the imminent failure of a commercial venture 
quite serious for his modest resources. The spirit of speculation, 
perhaps natural in a ‘ treasure-seeker,’ had induced him to invest 
the greatest part, if not the whole, of the advance of pay I had 
given him before leaving Khotan in the purchase of an old pony. 
The intention was that it should carry Turdi’s provisions and 
slender outfit to Dandan-Uiliq and should then be killed there 
to provide meat for sale to my labourers. 

Turdi would, no doubt, have reaped due benefit from this 
ingenious combination of ‘‘ transport and supplies” if the men I 
brought from Tawakkel had not been mean enough to seize upon 
the idea for their own advantage. They took along an old cow as 
a joint-stock affair and duly slaughtered her near their camping- 
ground soon after our arrival at the ruined site. Both these time- 


CHAP. XIX. | AN ANTIQUE FODDER STORE 305 


honoured animals had been carefully kept out of my sight by their 
respective owners while on the march, probably from a correct 
surmise that I should have insisted upon the carriage of adequate 
fodder for them to prevent downright starving. Nor did I learn 
the facts until several days after our arrival, when Turdi had at 
last to resort to a strange and desperate expedient in the vain hope 
of saving his pony. He had failed to come to terms with the 
Tawakkel labourers for the sale of the animal, and had also let the 
opportunity go by of sending it either back to their oasis or on to 
the Keriya River. So he tried to keep it alive by sending it with 
a young fellow of his own fraternity, who accompanied him as a 
kind of acolyte, for a considerable distance to the south, where it 
might get some grazing on dry tamarisk leaves and Kumush. 

Just when the poor creature had no more strength left for the 
daily journey in search of this miserable diet Turdi made a curious 
discovery, which to his confiding soul appeared at first a quasi- 
miraculous saving. Scraping the sand-covered bank of a small 
depression that had formed. through wind erosion by the side of a 
ruined dwelling-house, the remains of which were visible about a 
hundred yards to the south of my tent and which he had searched 
years before, he laid bare a closely-compressed mass of straw. It 
had evidently been once deposited in a corner of the fenced court- 
yard of that house and had, like the fence itself, remained in a 
remarkably well-preserved condition, though darkened and, of course, 
completely dried by the long centuries that had passed ‘since the 
sand covered it. 

Turdi was exultant over his discovery, and at once brought his 
starving pony, the existence of which could no longer be hidden 
from me, to feed on this providentially preserved antique fodder 
store! I had, of course, from the first strong doubts as to the 
nourishing capacity of this, perhaps the most ‘‘ desiccated ”’ fodder 
stuff that was ever offered to a horse. But the poor famished 
creature swallowed it ravenously at the beginning and seemed to 
justify old Turdi’s hopeful expectations. However, a day’s experi- 
ence sufticed to prove that Turdi had badly over-estimated the 

21 


306 FINDS OF ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS — [cwap. xix. 


feeding value of his ancient straw, or rather, as I ought perhaps to 
put it from consideration for my honest ‘‘ treasure-seeking ” guide, 
that he was less of an authority on the keeping of live animals than 
on most matters dead and buried beneath the desert sands. So 
when, a day later, Ram Singh arrived with some of my camels that 
carried his baggage from the Keriya Darya, I had as much as 
possible of the little store of dry Kumush they had brought along 
given to the poor famished pony. 

Turdi, still finding no purchasers, was now anxious to have it 
returned to Tawakkel, and, as the return of Kasim’s small party 
made it easier now to spare men from the work, I arranged at once 
to have it sent back there in charge of two labourers, who were also 
to take my mail-bag for transmission to Khotan. I had, of course, 
great doubts as to whether the victim of Turdi’s ill-fated experiment 
would be able to cover the sixty miles or so of desert marching to 
the river bank. Hence it was no surprise to me when the first 
arrivals from that side—two men who brought me news from the 
kindly Amban of Khotan—reported that the pony had succumbed 
to its sufferings two marches from Dandan-Uiliq. 

The last I heard of the ill-fated animal was a request which 
Turdi addressed to me before I finally left the ruined site, and 
which showed how curiously the rules of the local administration 
would affect the quondam owner even far av vay in the desert. 
Turdi wanted to have at least the pony’s skin carried back to 
Tawakkel by his companion and sold there. In order to save the 
tax which would otherwise have to be paid to the local Beg on 
account of this sale, I was obliged to endorse in due form the 
quaintly-worded and still more queerly penned Turki application 
setting forth all the sad cireumstances of the case which Turdi 
got written out by the hand of Niaz, our ‘ Mullah.’ I thought at 
the time how puzzling a document it would be for an archeologist 
who might have the good fortune to light wpon it in the desert 
sand some two thousand years hence ! 


CHAPTER XX 
DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS 


CuristmAs Day was spent in clearing a group of ruined structures 
situated about half a mile to the north-east of my camp, in which I 
could without difficulty recognise the remains. of a square temple 
cella and of an adjoining dwelling-place, probably a monastic 
habitation. These ruins had suffered badly from erosion, which, in 
the unprotected soil immediately to the north and east of them, had 
produced broad depressions to a depth of about 20 feet below 
the original ground level. The ruins, owing to this lowering of the 
surrounding ground, seemed now to occupy a raised tongue of land 
quite clear of dunes, and nowhere retained more than two or three 
feet of covering sand. Aboye this there rose the splintered short 
stumps of posts that once formed the framework of wattle and 
plaster walls, their rows clearly marking the original division of the 
rooms. The exposed condition of these ruins had, of course, 
attracted the visits of ‘‘ treasure-seeking ”’ parties, including some 
Turdi had personally conducted in former years, and the débris of 
plaster, timber, ancient pottery, &c., scattered about on the surface 
plainly told of their burrowings. 

Notwithstanding the damage thus caused, there remained some 
very curious relics to reward my careful clearing. In the western 
part of the quadrangular passage that enclosed the cella we found 
two painted panels of wood, showing on both sides representations 


of sacred personages and undoubtedly the votive offerings of some 
307 


308 DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS [cHap. xx. 


pious worshipper. On the larger and better preserved of these 
panels, which measures 18 by 4 inches, there appears seated 
between two attendants a half-length human figure with the head of 
a rat, and wearing a diadem. It was only long afterwards, when 
the little painting had been cleaned of its adhering layer of sand in 
the British Museum, and examined by the trained eye of my friend, 
Mr. F. H. Andrews, that I realised the peculiar shape of the figure 
and its true significance. It is manifestly meant to represent the 
king of those holy rats which, according to the local legend 
related by Hiuen Tsiang and already referred to, in connection 
with the Kaptar-Mazar (p. 195), were worshipped at the western 
border of the Khotan oasis for having saved the kingdom from a_ 
barbarian invasion. The sacred character of the rat-headed figure 
is sufficiently marked by the semi-elliptical vesica or halo which 
encloses it, and by the worshipping attitude of the attendant figure 
on the left, which carries in one hand a long-stemmed, leaf-shaped 
fan or punkah. 

In a corner of the temple-cella, close to the floor, there turned up 
two scraps of thin water-lined paper, showing writing on one side 
only, and that in characters which I could at once recognise as 
belonging to that peculiar cursive form of Brahmi already known to 
us from certain ancient documents in a non-Sanskritic language 
that had reached Dr. Hoernle’s collection through purchase from 
Khotan. On clearing the largest of the rooms in the ruined 
dwelling-house adjoining the shrine, I found several small sheets of 
the same coarse paper and with similar writing, either crumpled up 
or folded into narrow rolls, just like the Chinese documents I subse- 
quently unearthed at this site. It was no easy task to open out 
these flimsy papers with fingers half-benumbed with cold, and the 
more delicate part of such work was accomplished only in the 
British Museum. But the cursory examination that was possible 
on the spot showed that these more or iess fragmentary sheets 
could not have belonged to manuscript books or ‘Pothis,’ but 
evidently contained detached records of some kind. 

The impression I had gained from the outward appearance ot 


CHAP. XX. ] AN UNKNOWN LANGUAGE 309 


these and similar documents in cursive Brahmi found in other ruins 
of Dandan-Uiliq, has been fully borne out by the result of Dr. 
Hoernle’s painstaking researches, as since published in the second 
part of his ‘‘ Report on the British Collection of Antiquities from 
Central Asia’ (1902). The materials upon which that eminent 
scholar worked comprised a considerable number of well-preserved 
documents of this type which had been purchased in the years 
1895-97 by Mr. Macartney and Captain Godfrey from Badruddin, 
the Afghan Aksakal of Khotan. Internal evidence, as well as the 
information secured by me, makes it highly probable that these 
documents represent chance finds made by Turdi during his earlier 
visits to Dandan-Uiliq. Their minute analysis has enabled Dr. 
Hoernle to establish a series of philological facts which are of great 
interest, and possess considerable importance also from a historical 
point of view. He has succeeded in determining a number of 
words, either names, or terms, or numerals, which ‘‘ seem to prove 
clearly that the language of the documents is an Indo-Iranian 
dialect, having affinities both with Persian and the Indian 
vernaculars, in addition to peculiarities of its own,” pointing 
towards a connection with the so-called Ghalchah dialects of the 
Pamir region. He has also ascertained the interesting fact that 
the majority of the complete documents are fully dated, though the 
key to the chronology has yet to be discovered. 

A number of ingenious observations, such as the discovery of 
lists of names at the end of certain documents, accompanied by 
what manifestly are the marks of witnesses, support Dr. Hoernle’s 
conclusion that we have in them records of official or private 
transactions similar in character to the deeds of loan, requisition 
orders, &¢c., which are contained in the Chinese documents from 
Dandan-Uiliq to be described below. The detailed examination 
of my finds of this kind which Dr. Hoernle has very kindly under- 
taken has not proceeded sufficiently far to throw further light on 
the interesting questions thus raised. But the certainty which 
exists as to all circumstances attending the discovery of the 
documents contained in my collection has already helped us to 


310 DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS [cnap. xx. 


settle definitely the period to which these records in cursive 
Brahmi belong. 

Dr. Hoernle, judging from paleographic evidence, had suggested 
the eighth century of our era as their probable date. The correct- 
ness of this approximate dating is now fully proved by the fact that 
I found some of these documents mixed up in the same place and 
conditions with the Chinese records to be mentioned below which 
bear definite dates ranging from 781 to 787 a.p. If we are right 
in supposing for these documents in cursive Brahmi such practical 
contents as above indicated, it follows with great probability that 
their language was that actually spoken by the inhabitants of the 
ruined settlement immediately before it was abandoned. It still 
remains to be ascertained whether this language is identical 
with the unknown tongue already mentioned above which appears 
in some fragmentary manuscript books or Pothis from Dandan- 
Uiliq written with Brahmi characters. Judging from certain 
Sanskrit terms found interspersed in the latter texts, it seems 
probable that they treat, like the Sanskrit Pothis with which 
they were found, of Buddhist religious matters. They may possibly 
prove to be translations of Sanskrit treatises from the Buddhist 
Canon into a Central-Asian language that had obtained literary 
use in the Buddhist Church of these regions. 

The room which had yielded those paper documents in cursive 
Brahmi held nowhere more than 8 feet of sand. Yet, even 
this scanty layer had sufficed to protect a variety of interest- 
ing remains, found mainly at the foot of the walls adjoining the 
south-west corner. Two small oblong tablets of thin wood, 
rounded off on the right end and provided with a string-hole, 
proved to contain several lines of the same cursive Brahmi 
script already discussed. Another and somewhat larger tablet, 
about 14 inches long and 8 inches broad, at once attracted 
my interest by showing in its shape 
and handle the closest resemblance 
to the ‘ Takhta,’ that traditional 
ANCIENT ‘TAKHTA’ FoR wertine. Wooden board which in all native 


CHAP. XX.] FINDS OF CHINESE RECORDS 311 


schools of Northern India fills the place of our slate. This 
tablet was found blank, but the marks of plentiful scraping 
plainly show that it had once been used for writing. In the light 
of subsequent discoveries we must look upon these few tablets, 
just like the Indian ‘ Takhta’ itself, as quasi-archaic survivals. 
But at the time of their discovery I little suspected what much 
more extensive finds of the same ancient writing material were 
awaiting me elsewhere. 

The elaborate floral decoration on a portion of a lacquered and 
painted wood bowl which I found in the same corner clearly 
betokened Chinese work. And very soon after, as if to confirm 
a conjecture as to the dwellers in this room, the first finds of 
Chinese documents rewarded my search. One consisted of a 
stick of tamarisk wood, about 14 inches long and 1 inch wide, 
partly flattened on two sides, on each of which there appear in 
vertical lines about a dozen Chinese symbols. The ink of most 
has badly faded, and no certain interpretation of the few clear 
characters has as yet been obtained, though it seems probable that 
the stick had once been used as a kind of tally, making mention 
of a certain load. More important from a historical point of view 
is the second document, a sheet of thin water-lined paper, originally 
folded up into a narrow roll and recovered almost complete. 

According to the provisional translation which Mr. Macartney 
kindly supplied to me at Kashgar, and which has been confirmed 
in all essentials by Professor Chayannes, of the College de France, the 
main purport of this paper is a petition for the recovery of a donkey 
which had been let on hire to two individuals, who after a lapse 
of ten months had failed to come back or to return the animal. 
It is precisely dated on the sixth day of the second month of the 
sixteenth year of the Ta-li period, which corresponds to 781 a.p. 
The locality from which the petition originates is referred to by 
a name which, owing to certain doubts as to the phonetic value 
of the two characters composing it, may be variously read as 
Li-sieh, Lieh-sieh, or Li-tsa. Now this find is of special value, 
not merely because it supplies an exact date but also because, in 


312 DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS | [cHap. xx. 


conjunction with three Chinese documents which Mr. Macartney 
had obtained in 1898 through Badruddin, and which have been 
published in Dr. Hoernle’s Second Report already quoted, it makes 
it possible to fix with great probability the name of the settlement 
represented by the ruins of Dandan-Uiliq, as well as the Chinese 
administrative division to which it belonged. 

The three documents I refer to in general appearance and style 
of writing closely resemble those excavated by me at Dandan- 
Uiliq, and are, like the latter, official records of a public or private 
character. The translations with which Mr. Macartney kindly 
supplied me at Kashgar show that the first of them, dated in the 
third year of the Ta-li period, corresponding to a.p. 768, contains the 
draft of a report from the officer in charge of Li-sieh (Li-tsa) on a 
petition from the people of that locality. The report recommends 
a postponement of the collection of miscellaneous taxes in view of 
the distress caused by the depredations of robbers. Another 
document, dated only by month and day, is a military requisition 
sent from the Li-sieh camp to a civil authority for a skin to re-cover 
a drum and for feathers to re-fit arrows. The third, dated in the 
seventh year of the Chien-Chung period, corresponding to a.p. 786, 
records the issue of a loan of 15,000 cash on the security of a 
house in a village (name not deciphered), belonging to Li-sieh. 

In view of the close agreement shown by the dates and contents 
of these documents with those of the Chinese papers which IL 
discovered in various ruined buildings at Dandan-Uiliq, it appears 
to me practically certain that they represent some of the finds of 
Chinese manuscripts which Turdi well remembered to have made 
on a visit to the site some years previously, and which with other 
“old things’? he had sold to Badruddin, his usual employer at 
Khotan. It is possible that these particular documents came from 
one of those rooms in the ruined house D.V. which I found already 
thoroughly searched, or from some other ruins that had similarly. 
been ‘‘explored’’ before by Turdi’s parties. In any case their 
comparison with the first Chinese document I unearthed at the 
site, the petition (D.V. 6) already referred to, leaves no reasonable 


cHaAp. xx.] ANCIENT NAME OF DANDAN-UILIQ 313 


doubt as to Li-sieh (Li-tsa) being the name of the settlement or 
small tract to which the ruined shrines and dwellings of Dandan- 
Uiliq belonged. 

It makes it further clear that the administrative division in. 
which this settlement was included bore a Chinese designation 
meaning ‘‘ Six Cities’ (Liu-Cheng); for this identical term is used 
in the title of the ‘‘ Inspecting Superintendent of the Six Cities” to 
which the report preserved in Mr. Macartney’s first document was 
addressed, and it also occurs in my first find immediately after the 
name of Li-sieh. According to the information supplied by Sun, 
Mr. Macartney’s Chinese literatus, and verified also from other 
sources, the term ‘‘ Six Cities’? is still well known by Chinese 
administrators in the ‘‘ New Dominions”’ as an old designation of 
the Khotan District, It is supposed to be derived from the six 
towns (Ilchi or Khotan, Yurung-kash, Kara-kash, Chira, Keriya, 
and a sixth of doubtful identity) which were reckoned to belong 
to it previous to the modern division of the Ambanships of 
Khotan and Keriya. 

Those few interesting finds, together with hours of bright 
sunshine that gave relief after the bitter cold of the night, had 
helped me to pass Christmas Day in good heart. In the evening 
on leaving the buildings excavated, I had occasion to learn by 
experience how easy it was to lose one’s way amidst the monoto- 


99 


nous sand-wayes. The discovery of a well-preserved Chinese coin 
bearing the mark of the Kai-yuen period (a.p. 713-741), which I 
picked up at the foot of a dune close to the south of the ruin, and 
the search for more relics made me tarry behind the men who were 
hurrying back. Remembering how near the camp was, I did not 
think it necessary to retain any one with myself. When after 
a while I set about to return in the twilight I mistook the track, 
and then after tramping through the low dunes for about a mile 
vainly attempted to locate my camp. There was no sound nor 
any other indication to guide me. Realising the risk of completely 
losing my bearings as it was getting dark (my magnetic pocket 
compass had unfortunately been left in the tent that day), I was 


314 DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS | [cHap. xx. 


just about to retrace my footprints while I could still distinguish 
them, when I suddenly recognised sticking out from the sand some 
remains of walls which days before I had noticed at a considerable 
distance to the south-east of my camping-ground. 

Trusting to my recollection of their relative position, I turned off 
to my right and, keeping along the crest-line of the dunes which I 
knew to be running mainly from north-west to south-east, made my 
way slowly onwards until I heard my shouts answered by some of 
my men. Old Turdi and Islam Beg, my faithful Darogha, had 
erown uneasy at my absence, and had sent the men out in couples 
to search for me. The shelter of my tent and the hot tea that 
awaited me was doubly welcome after this little incident. There 
was nobody to share my Christmas dinner but ‘ Yolchi Beg,’ my 
sociable little terrier, who was ever ready to, let his own dinner 
outside the tent get frozen hard while sitting up amidst the rugs of 
the bed for choice bits from my table. I sometimes doubt whether 
even the friends whose kind thoughts turned towards me that 
evening from the distant South and West, could realise how 
cheerful is the recollection of the Christmas spent in the solitude 
and cold of the desert. | 

The ruined structures which had helped to direct me that 
evening were the next to be excavated. Curiously enough, the 
finds made in them formed the best complement of the results 
of the previous day’s work. A small Buddhist temple, constructed 

in the usual style of these ruins, with square cella and enclosing 
passage, was first brought to light, and furnished a number of 
interesting frescoes, as well as some painted panels and manuscript 
fragments in cursive Brahmi characters. When subsequently the 
ground floor rooms of a small dwelling-house (D. VIL.) close to the 
north of the shrine were cleared from the deep sand that filled them, 
we came, on the floor of the central room, measuring about 18 by 
13 feet, upon quite a small collection of Chinese documents 
on paper. They were all folded into narrow rolls, just as the one 
found in the ruin D.Y., and lay scattered about on the ground near 
the well-preserved fireplace, either separate or sticking together in 


CHAP. XX.| THE HU-KUO MONASTERY 315 


little packets. The leaves, of which the rolls had been made up, 
proved on the average 11 inches high. . 

Owing to the damp that must have once reached them through 
the mud floor some of these rolls had decayed in parts. But others 
were recovered more or less complete, and though the translations 
of four of these, which I obtained through the kindness of 
Professors Chayannes and Douglas, are only provisional, they 
amply suffice to settle all doubts as to the date and character of 
the records. Two of them, dated in the third year of the Chien- 
Chung period, corresponding to 4.p. 782, are bonds for small loans 
specified in copper cash or grain issued on interest to different 
borrowers by one Chien-ying, who is designated as a priest of the 
Hu-kuo monastery. As security for these loans the borrowers, 
whose names and ages are appended together with those of certain 
relatives as sureties (mother and sister, wife and daughter), pledge 
the whole of their household goods and cattle irrespective of any 
valuation. A third document, dated in the year equivalent to 
A.D. 787, records an agreement of similar purport, without clearly 
showing the name of the lender. That this unknown capitalist was 
also in some way connected with the Hu-kuo monastery becomes 
very probable from the contents of the fourth paper (reproduced 
already in my “ Preliminary Report”). This, undated, conveys 
instructions from the three priests superintending the Hu-kuo con- 
vent to the monk or caretaker in charge of some outlying landed 
property of theirs. He is therein directed how to carry out certain 
urgent field-labours, employing all available men in cutting grass 
for three days after receipt of the order, while one labourer is to be 
retained to irrigate the fields, &c. 

From the nature of these petty records it can safely be concluded 
that the ruined dwelling-house in which they were found, together 
with the adjoining shrine, represents either the Hu-kuo convent, or 
a monastic residence directly attached to it. The Chinese designa- 
tion of the convent (Hu-kuo, literally ‘‘ country-protecting ’’) and 
the Chinese names of the superintending priests, which are recorded 
in the last-named document, leave little doubt as to the nationality 


*(£) Tg ‘ax (N ‘LaTava *(€) G8L ca'v amzya 
NAGOOM ASANIHO ‘OITIO-NVANVA WOwd ‘GNO@ ONINIVENOO {(% “IA ‘d) ENAWAOG aASaNTHO 


CHAP. XX. | DATE OF ABANDONMENT 317 


of the monkish establishment. But that the population which 
supported it was not Chinese is plainly indicated by the transcribed 
names of the borrowers and their sureties, as well as by the short 
inscriptions in cursive Brahmi found beneath some of the frescoes 
of the temple. The more learned of the monks may be supposed 
to have been versed also in Sanskrit, the sacred language of the 
Buddhist Church throughout the North; a small fragment of a 
Sanskrit ‘ Pothi’ was, in fact, among the manuscript finds of 
this ruin. 

The very pettiness of the affairs recorded in the Chinese papers 
of this small convent increases to no small extent their value from 
a chronological point of view. Unimportant in character and 
insignificant in size and material, it is highly improbable that these 
documents should date back to a period preceding by any great 
leneth of time the final abandonment of the building. Now it 
deserves to be noted that all the papers from this ruin which 
can be dated with accuracy, belong to the years 782-787 a.p. 
Taking into account that the first-described Chinese document, 
found in the ruined building D.V. under exactly similar con- 
ditions, also bears the date of s.p. 781, we are almost by 
necessity led to the conclusion that the settlement to which 
these shrines and dwelling-houses belonged was deserted about the 
close of the eighth century of our era. In each case the papers 
were discovered closely adhering to the original floor, which proves 
that the sand must have entered the rooms very soon after these 
petty records had been seattered about there. For light and flimsy 
as they are, the little paper-rolls could not have resisted very long 
the force of the storms that pass over the country each successive 
spring and summer. 

It is a particularly fortunate circumstance that such unmistakable 
chronological evidence has been obtained in the very same structure 
which has furnished us with the best preserved, and perhaps the 
most interesting specimens of contemporary painting from this site. 
The three painted panels of wood I refer to were found lying in the 
loose sand a few inches above the flooring, and not far from the east 


318 DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS | [cnap. xx. 


wall of the central room. From this position, and from the dowels 
still clearly marked on the back of two of them, it is evident that 
these pictures had once been fixed high up on the wall, from which 
they dropped only when the little monastic building was gradually 
being filled with sand. This accounts for the remarkable preserva- 
tion of the colours and the wood underlying them. No verbal 
description can take the place of adequate reproductions in colour 
which it has been impossible to provide for the present publication. 
But until such will be made accessible in my Detailed Report, now 
under preparation, I may at least draw attention to one of these 
pictures which by its subject presents unusual interest, and which 
can already be seen on a reduced scale in one of the coloured 
collotype plates illustrating my ‘‘ Preliminary Report.’’ 

This panel, which has a rectangular shape, with pointed arched 
top, is 15 inches high and 7 inches broad. It shows two 
figures, both mounted and manifestly of high rank, one above 
the other. The upper figure is seen riding on a high-stepping 
horse, the colour of which, white with large spots of black, curiously 
recalls the appearance of the piebald ‘ Yarkandi’ horse, which, 
until very recent times, was so much fancied by natives of Northern 
India. The rider, whose handsome, youthful face shows an 
interesting combination of Indian and Chinese features, wears his 
long black hair tied in a loose knot at the crown, while a yellow 
band passes round the head holding in front a large elliptical jewel. 
The long pink tunic, and the narrow light scarf that descends from 
the back of the head, with its two ends floating behind the arms to 
indicate rapid movement, are drawn with the same care and freedom 
of outline as the rest of the details. The feet are cased in high 
black boots with felt soles, very much like those still worn by men 
of means in Chinese Turkestan, and are placed in stirrups. While 
the left hand holds the rein, the right raises a patera, towards which 
a bird is shown swooping down in full flight. From the girdle 
hangs a long sword, nearly straight, and of a pattern that appears 
early in Persia and other Muhammadan countries of the East. 

The horse, which is remarkably well drawn even to its legs and 


CHAP. XX. | PAINTED PANELS 319 


hoofs, carries a deep and narrow saddle over a large ‘ Numdah’ or 
felt-cloth, and shows elaborate trappings. These include a single 
bridle, a surcingle, breastplate and crupper, as well as a large 
ornamental plate that covers the forehead and nose. Two curious 
horns project from this plate, the one at the forehead carrying what 
might be the Trisula, or Indian trident, while the other above the 
noseband is surmounted by what looks like a mango-shaped tassle 
in red silk, represented also on other parts of the trappings. We 
could not have wished for a more accurate picture of that ‘‘ horse 
millinery ’’ which in the eighth century evidently flourished through- 
out Turkestan as much as it does nowadays. No less interesting is 
the representation of the second figure below, riding on a two-humped 
camel, shown in full movement and with striking fidelity to nature. 

The rider, whose face is partly deleted, wears over his short curly 
hair a curious sugar-loaf hat, with its broad brim turned up into 
‘Vandyke’ points. Marks on the hat indicate some spotted fur as 
its material. The long and loose-fitting green garment worn by 
the rider is gathered below the knee into the wide tops of red boots, 
or mocassins without soles, closely resembling the ‘ Charuks’ still 
used through the whole of Eastern Turkestan, particularly during 
the winter months. While the left hand is guiding the camel by a 
nose-cord, the right, in the same pose as that of the rider above, 
raises a shell-shaped cup. The elaborate fittings of the saddle and the 
stirrups show that the animal bestridden by this personage is meant 
for a riding camel, a mount rarely used nowadays in these regions. 
Some freely drawn'contour-lines visible behind the camel indicate 
a hilly country, or else high ridges of sand. The nimbus painted 
round the head of each of the mounted figures show plainly their 
holy character, and the identity of their attitude leaves no doubt as 
to their connection in what evidently was a sacred legend. But 
as to the nature of this legend, which, as already stated, appears 
also elsewhere in the decoration of Dandan-Uiliq shrines, no clue 
has as yet been traced. 

It is impossible to give here either reproductions or detailed 
accounts of the other panels, one of them painted on both sides, 


320 DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS | [cuap. xx. 


recovered from what we may briefly call the refectory of the 
‘Hu-kuo’ monastery. The paintings of Buddhas or Bodhisattvas 
which they contain must prove of exceptional interest for the study 
of the history of Buddhist art in Central Asia. For, apart from the 
high opinion which their good drawing, graceful composition, and 
free execution must give us of the merits of the Indian art trans- 
planted to Khotan, these paintings also strikingly illustrate the 
early development of the elaborate conventional details in emblems, 
poses, &e., which are so characteristic for all representations of the 
Buddhist Pantheon in Tibetan art. As the latter is so far known 
to us only from comparatively late specimens, and as scarcely any 
remains exist of early Indian paintings illustrating Buddhist worship 
of the Northern or so-called Mahayana type, the value can scarcely 
be over-rated of such well-preserved and approximately dateable 
pictures treating subjects thoroughly familiar to that system of 
worship. 

But to me perhaps even more curious, because certainly less 
expected, are the traces of the influence of Persian art which appear 
unmistakably in the treatment of face and dress on some of these 
and subsequently discovered paintings. The evidence of this 
remarkable fact will be duly furnished by means of proper 
illustrations in my scientific publication. In the meantime, 
however, I may point out that this connection with later Iranian 
art finds its exact parallel in the still more remarkable influence of 
classical art imported from the Far West, of which my subsequent 
discoveries have revealed such tangible proofs for a much earlier 
period. 

The description so far given of the structures I excavated during 
the first part of my stay at Dandan-Uiliq will suffice to indicate the 
general character and contents of the ruins of this site. The 
survey and excavation of other detached shrines and dwelling-places 
scattered amidst the dunes kept me for another week busy from 
morning till evening. It brought the number of buildings that 
were thoroughly cleared and examined up to a total of fourteen. 
But though the results of these excavations helped to confirm and 


CHAP. XX.] BUDDHIST PICTORIAL ART 321 


supplement my former observations, they did not bring to light 
novel features requiring detailed mention here. In regard to 
materials and mode of construction all the buildings resembled 
each other closely, showing plainly that they had been built and 
probably also deserted in approximately the same period. But their 
state of preservation greatly differed, according to the measure in 
which they had been exposed to the erosive action of the winds and 
the equally destructive diggings of ‘ treasure-seekers.’”’ In some 
instances I came upon unmistakable evidence of their operations 
even in structures that had since been covered up again by deep 
sand. 

Thus in a small temple-cella the well-moulded octagonal base of 
the principal image had been dug into from behind in search of 
supposed treasure. Yet the votive tablets that had been leaning 
against its foot in front were left untouched, and equally so a fairly 
thick packet of manuscript leaves comprising probably more than 
one ‘Pothi.’ But, alas! the damp rising from the floor when water 
still reached this neighbourhood had here done its work of de- 
struction far more effectively than the ‘‘treasure-seckers”’ ever could. 
The leaves of paper had decayed completely into compact. layers, 
which could not be detached from the hardened crust of what once 
was dust enveloping them. Ultimately these lumps of earth had 
to be cut off as a whole from the ground to which they adhered ; 
but even with the utmost care in slicing, the flakes of paper since 
laid bare reveal only fragmentary groups of Brahmi characters. 
The upper board of wood which once covered one of these books, 
and which I was able to remove in a half-rotten condition, figures 
now as an instructive relic in my collection of ancient manuscripts 
and writing implements. 

But opportunities for interesting antiquarian observations were by 
no means restricted to the finds which the excavation of extant 
ruins yielded. A careful survey of their surroundings also taught 
much that helps us to reconstruct the general aspects and con- 
ditions of the life which once flourished here. I have already 


referred to those strange witnesses of ancient orchards and avenues, 
22 


322 DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS _[cHap. xx. 


the gaunt, splintered trunks of poplars and various fruit trees, which 
could still be seen, half-buried in the sand, near most of the 
buildings. On some patches of the original ground left uncovered 
between the moving dunes the traces of old irrigation channels, 
running between. small banks of earth, and evidently constructed 
after the fashion that still prevails in the country, were easily 
recognisable. But owing to the dunes or else to the effects of 
erosion it was impossible to follow them for any distance. 

In many places between the scattered ruins, the ground was 
thickly strewn with fragments of coarse pottery, small corroded 
pieces of metal, and similar débris. These remains, found in 
places where at present no traces of old structures survive, probably 
mark the positions occupied by less pretentious dwellings which, 
like the houses of common Khotan cultivators of the present day, 
were built wholly of sun-dried bricks or stamped clay. These were 
likely to crumble away far more quickly than buildings: with a 
timber frame-work covered by hard plaster. The latter mode of 
construction also is still used in the towns and villages of Khotan, 
but being far more expensive, owing to the distance from which 
wood has to be brought, it is restricted to the houses of the 
well-to-do and to Mosques, Sarais, and similar buildings. This 
observation helps to explain, at least partly, why, at sites like 
Dandan-Uiliq which must for various reasons be supposed 
to have been occupied by comparatively large settlements, the 
extant structural remains are limited in number and so widely 
scattered. 

But the striking preponderance of religious buildings among the 
Dandan-Uiliq remains also suggests the possibility that these local 
shrines and their small monastic establishments continued to be 
kept up and visited, perhaps as pilgrimage places, for some 
time after the rest of the settlement had been abandoned. The 
conditions in which Muhammadan Ziarats are now often found 
beyond the present cultivated area of oases, would furnish an exact 
parallel. In this case the complete decay of the deserted village 
structures was likely to have been accelerated by the demands that 


cHAP, xx.| ABANDONMENT OF SETTLEMENT 323 


the attendants of the shrines, as well as the pilgrims, would 
necessarily make upon them for whatever in the way of wood and 
other useful materials had remained in them. 

However this may be, it must be considered as certain that the 
abandonment of the settlement was a gradual one, and in no way 
connected with any sudden physical catastrophe such as some 
European travellers have been only too ready to assume, on account 
of popular legends they had heard about the so-called ‘ ancient 
cities’ of the Taklamakan. The Sodom and Gomorrah legends 
related all over Eastern Turkestan about ‘ old towns ”’ suddenly 
submerged under the sand-dunes, are more ancient than the ruins 
of Dandan-Uiliq themselves. Hiuen-Tsiang had already heard 
them more or less in the same form in which they are now current, 
as is seen from the story of the town of ‘ Ho-lo-lo-kia,’ which we shall 
have occasion to refer to in connection with the site of Pi-mo. 
These legends undoubtedly are interesting as folk-lore. But where 
we have sach plain archwological evidence to the contrary as the 
examination of the Dandan-Uiliq ruins, and in fact of every other 
ancient site in this region has supplied to me, scientific inquiry 
need have no concern with them. 

My detailed survey of Dandan-Uiliq, together with other observa- 
tions of a semi-topographical, semi-antiquarian nature which 
gradually accumulated during my explorations at this and other 
sites, make it very probable that the lands of Dandan-Uiliq were 
irrigated from an extension of the canals which, down to a much 
later date, brought the water of the streams of Chira, Domoko and 
Gulakhma to the desert area due south of the ruins. The débris- 
covered site of Uzun-Tati, which I discovered there amidst the 
sand-dunes, is identical with the ‘ Pi-mo’ of Hiuen-Tsiang, Marco 
Polo’s ‘Pein,’ and can be proved by unquestionable evidence to 
have been occupied for at. least five centuries longer than Dandan- 
Uiliq. A number of historical as well as topographical considera- 
tions, for a detailed discussion of which I must refer to my 
scientific publication, point to the conclusion that the successive 
abandonment of both Dandan-Uiliq and ‘Pi-mo’ was due to the 


324 DISCOVERY OF DATED DOCUMENTS [cnap. xx. 


same cause, the difficulty of maintaining effective irrigation for 
these out-lying settlements. 

I cannot attempt here to investigate the question to what extent 
this receding of the cultivated area may be attributed to neglect 
of irrigation works, caused probably by political troubles and 
consequent depopulation, or to a change in the physical conditions 
attending the supply of water from those streams. I may, 
however, with advantage call attention here to my subsequent 
observations at certain villages of the Gulakhma and Domoko 
oases, the cultivated area of which has, owing to the difficulty 
of carrying the irrigation water sufficiently far, been shifted, 
within the memory of living men, as much as six to eight miles 
further to the south. The crumbling ruins of the deserted 
village homesteads which I saw there, stripped of all materials 
that could be of use, and the miles of once cultivated ground 
which the desert sand is now slowly over-running, but on which 
the lines of empty canals, irrigation embankments, &c., can still 
be made out, were the best illustration of the process by 
which the lands of Dandan-Uiliq became finally merged in the 
desert. 

In this connection I may note that our survey furnished no 
evidence in support of the assumption put forth by Dr. Sven Hedin, 
that the Keriya Darya in historical times flowed close to Dandan- 
Uiliq, and that the abandonment of the site was connected with 
the subsequent shifting of the river to its present bed, some 
twenty-eight miles in a direct line further to the east. Probably, 
the distinguished explorer would have hesitated to make this 
suggestion had he known the indisputable antiquarian evidence 
which shows that the ruins to which, mainly on the basis of 
conjectural calculations as to the movement of the sand-dunes, 
he was prepared to assign an age of about two thousand years, were 
in reality abandoned only about the close of the eighth century of 
our era. 


CHAPTER XXI 
THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA 


On the 8rd of January, 1901, the explorations at Dandan-Uiliq were 
completed. The previous evening my long-expected mail had 
arrived from Kashgar, a heavy bag this time with the postal 
accumulations of some six weeks. The latest of the letters and 
papers sent from Europe via India dated from the beginning of 
‘October. One of the most welcome letters was a communication 
from the Indian Foreign Office, which informed me that the 
request I had made some nine months before from Calcutta, to 
be allowed eventually to return through Russian Turkestan, had 
received the sanction of the Russian authorities. The safe 
packing of my fragile antiquarian finds, and the making up of my 
own mail, kept me busy all day and as long as work was possible 
in the tent.. The camels had, in accordance with previous 
instructions, duly arrived from the river, where they had managed 
to gather fresh strength even on the scanty fare offered by the 
wintry jungle. From the unusual animation with which the 
preparations for the start were proceeding, it was easy to see 
how much all my men, from Ram Singh downwards, enjoyed 
the prospect of saying goodbye to this trying camping-ground. 
So there was some disappointment when they learned that before 
altogether leaving the desolate neighbourhood I intended to visit 
some ruins of which Turdi had spoken as situated to the north 
and known to treasure-seekers by the name of Rawak (‘‘ High 


Mansion ’’). 
325 


326 THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA [cuap. xxi. 


On the morning of the 4th of January I paid off and dismissed 
to Tawakkel a portion of my little force of labourers who had 
worked so valiantly. With the rest I set out to the north, and 
after a march of about seven miles across gradually rising sand- 
ridges reached again ground where broken pottery between the 
dunes indicated the former existence of habitations. We halted 
at a spot between deeply eroded banks of loess, where Kasim’s 
party eighteen days before had camped and found water. But the 
well would yield no water now, as the ground was frozen quite 
hard, and when at last water was reached by fresh digging it 
proved even more brackish than that we had to drink at Dandan- 
Vili. 

Though Turdi had not visited the place for nine years he 
guided me on the next day without hesitation to where behind 
a long-stretching ridge of sand, some 60 ft. high, the ruins 
were situated. They proved to consist mainly of two much- 
decayed mounds, lying quite close. together, composed of fairly 
hard sun-dried bricks, probably the remains of small Stupas. 
They had evidently been dug into repeatedly and had suffered 
badly ; but in the case of the larger one it was still possible to 
make out what looked like a circular base about 382 ft. in 
diameter. From among the small débris of ancient pottery, 
broken glass, &e., strewn over the ground near the mounds I 
picked up a fragment of remarkably hard stucco on which the 
practised eye of Turdi at once discovered traces of a thin gold- 
layer. Judging from its shape this stucco piece is likely to have 
belonged to a statue that had once been fully gilded. 

Old Chinese coins without legend, as issued under the Han 
dynasty, also turned up at various places among the pottery débris 
which covered the low ground between the dunes. As the latter rise 
here to heights over 25 ft. and are proportionately large, it was 
scarcely surprising that we could trace the ruins of only one house 
built with timber. Its walls had decayed by erosion to within a 
few feet of the ground, and the high dune rising immediately above 
it made it impossible to clear more than a single room. Within 


CHAP. XXI. | REMAINS OF RAWAK 327 


it and close to the floor we found two small wooden tablets of 
oblong shape, inscribed on one side with cursive Brahmi characters. 
The socket which appeared on the back of one of them was 
proved by subsequent discoveries elsewhere to haye once held a 
clay seal. 

The fact that only Han coins were found here, as well as other 
indications, make it appear probable that Rawak was deserted a 
considerable time before Dandan-Uiliq. But until the peculiar 
physical conditions of the various parts of the Taklamakan, and 
particularly those. concerning the movement of the sand-dunes, 
have been systematically studied for a prolonged period, it would 
be hazardous to draw conclusions as to the rate of progress in the 
general advance of the desert southwards. And even when such 
observations are available—and I for one shall respect the devotion 
of those who may thereafter charge themselves with their collection 
on this forbidding ground—it is very doubtful whether their results 
could be relied upon to give a true view of the conditions prevailing 
at earlier periods. 

The examination of the scanty remains at Rawak completed 
the task for which I had set out just a month previously from 
Khotan. So on the morning of the 6th of January I began 
the march to the Keriya River. after paying off Merghen Ahmad 
with the last batch of the Tawakkel labourers. They parted 
from me in good spirits, well satisfied with the reward their work 
had earned them, and evidently none the worse for their long 
camping in the desert. Islam Beg, too, who had managed these 
people so well, now left me for Khotan, glad to regain once more 
the comforts of a warm homestead. He was to carry to the 
Khotan Amban my news and thanks for his help which had 
rendered the exploration of Dandan-Uiliq possible; also my mail 
bag was entrusted to him to commence its long journey west- 
wards. 

It was with mixed feelings that I said farewell to the silent 
sand-dunes amidst which I had worked for the last three weeks. 
They had yielded up enough to answer most of the questions 


328 THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA §[cHap. xxi. 


which arise about the strange ruins they have helped to preserve, 

and on my many walks across these swelling waves of sand I had 
grown almost fond of their simple scenery. Dandan-Uiliq was 
to lapse once more into that solitude which for a thousand years 
had probably never been disturbed so long as during ty visit. 
For me the recollection of this fascinating site will ever suggest 
the bracing air and the unsullied peace and purity of the wintry 
desert. 

The day was cloudy and as my caravan slowly moved off about 
11 a.m. a steady breeze met us from the north-east. About two 
miles from Rawak camp we passed a broad strip of ground where 
broken pottery, glass fragments, &c., cropped up again on the 
hard loess banks between the dunes. Beyond, all traces of ancient 
habitation ceased, and soon I saw also the last of the shrivelled 
dead trees standing in little clumps, the sight of which had 
become so familiar to me during these weeks. As the day wore 
on the breeze increased sufficiently to treat us to the spectacle 
of a gentle dust-storm. The air became filled with a gray fog, 
and the dust carried by the wind threatened to efface the track 
marked by the footprints of Kasim and Turdi, who marched ahead 
as guides. So I had to keep our party, which now looked much 
reduced, close together. The sand-hills rose gradually as we 
advanced to the east, and I realised that the apprehensions 
of old Turdi about the difficulty of finding water north of the 
line which the camels had previously followed to and from the 
river, were not without foundation. At the foot of a great ridge 
of piled-up dunes we had to halt for the night, though there was 
no chance of getting water there. Some withered roots of tamarisk 
supplied scanty fuel, but there was no living scrub to show where 
we might dig a well. Fortunately a small supply of water, or 
rather ice, was kept available for this emergency in the tanks 
which had already rendered good service at Dandan-Uiliq for 
storage. 

IT had at first intended to steer due east for Gharib-Chakma, 
which the Sub-Surveyor’s map showed as the nearest point on the 


CHAP. XXI.] FORMIDABLE SAND-DUNES 329 


river. But the thought that in doing so we were likely to get 
beyond the line up to which water could be got by digging, induced 
me on the next day to change our course to the south-east, with 
a view of reaching the track by which Kasim had previously 
brought the camels to and from the river. The wind had subsided 
during the night, and the haze slowly dissolved in the course of 
the day. The individual sand-dunes we passed were all between 
30 and 50 ft. high, but the line of march led also across three 
great ‘Dawans’ running from south to north. Their height 
above the little valleys between the ordinary dunes on either side 
seemed over 150 ft. It was with a feeling of relief that after 
having covered about eleven miles in a straight line and reached 
the ridge of the third Dawan we noticed on the easier ground 
beyond a few sand cones covered with live tamarisks. Kasim at 
once declared that water might be found at their foot. His 
prediction proved correct. After digging to a depth of 6 ft. 
through ground which for about 2 ft. from the surface was frozen, 
the men got at water. It was very salt but none the less most 
welcome. I in particular was glad of the wash which I had to 
deny myself at the previous camp for the sake of economising 
the water supply in the tanks. The camels, too, were glad to 
get a drink again; for heavily laden as they necessarily were now, 
they had felt the long march over these formidable sand-ranges. 
After a cold night, when the thermometer fell to 5° Fahr. below 
zero, we started early. Everybody was eager to pass out of the 
region of sand and reach the river. After about two miles’ 
marching Kasim’s sharp eyes discovered faint traces of the track 
which the camels had left in the sand when returning to fetch 
us from Dandan-Uiliq, and by following this track we soon came 
upon the well previously dug by Kasim’s party. Four Dawans 
had then to be crossed in succession, each piled up of terrace-like 
dunes and apparently between 120 and 150 ft. in height. The 
dunes in the broad valleys between them sank now to about 20— 
30 ft. ; yet there was no other indication that we were approaching 
the river, until at last from the top of the last huge ridge of 


330 THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA (cap. xx. 


sand the dark line of trees fringing the Keriya. Darya came into 
view. 

Four miles more we tramped on over dunes that showed broad 
backs and gradually diminished in height, until a belt was reached 
where tamarisks and ‘ Kumush’ erass was growing freely. When 
passing a last low bank of sand, I suddenly saw the glittering ice 
of the river before me. While I was glad to sit down on its bank 
atter the tiring walk of some fourteen miles, Kasim went to search for 
the ponies which had brought the Sub-Surveyor’s party from Keriya 
and were to await us here. Half an hour later they turned up 
under the escort of Ibrahim, the ‘Darogha’ whom the Amban of 
Keriya had sent to look after my camp. A cheerful fire was then 
lit under the poplars that line the river-bank, and by its side I sat 
contentedly until the camels turned up in the darkness. It was 
pleasant to view in the dusk the high trees still bearing partly 
their red autumn foliage, the thick shrubs and the wide ice-belt 
of the river, after those weeks when one’s eyes had rested only 
on yellow sand and the wavy lines of its expanse. 

On the following morning Kasim with a single companion left us 
to start on the march back to the Khotan Darya, while I was 
grateful to get into my saddle once more for the rest of our march 
to Keriya. The river along which the route led was now almost 
everywhere completely frozen over. It flows in a deep and 
extremely tortuous bed about 50-60 yards across at the narrowest 
points, but widens at occasional great bends to fully three times as 
much. The ground on the left bank, along which the day’s march 
took us, is covered for a breadth of about a mile with patches of 
forest and a belt of reed-jungle. Beyond stretch the sand-dunes 
westwards. On the right bank a high and well-defined ridge of 
sand, known as Kizil-kum (‘‘ the Red Sands ’’), which seemed to rise 
300 feet or so, could be seen following the river-course. The 
erowth of willows and poplars seemed equally luxuriant on either 
side. 

I passed a number of shepherds’ huts (‘ Satmas’) built of a rude 
framework of wood with walls of rushes closely packed, but met no 


CHAP. XXI.] BURHANUDDIN MAZAR 331 


human being until after a ride of about sixteen miles I reached 
the shrine- which was to offer me shelter for the night. The 
tomb of Saiyid Burhanuddin Padshahim (‘‘my Lord 5. B.”), seems 
a very popular place of pilgrimage for the people of the Keriya and 
Khotan districts, and the comfortable quarters and appearance of 
the five Sheikhs in attendance on the saint’s resting-place attest the 
veneration enjoyed by the latter. The Sheikhs were unable to tell 
me any particulars of the holy man’s story, except that he was 
connected in some way with the still holier Imam Jafar Sadik, 
worshipped at a famous desert shrine where the Niya River 
ends. 

The Sheikhs, who receive so many hundreds of pilgrims every 
year, know how to prepare for the comfort of “paying guests.” So 
T found a neat little room with felt carpets and a blazing fire ready 
to receive me by the side of the saint’s tomb. While waiting for 
my baggage, which did not arrive till late in the evening, I had 
plenty of time to think of the curious inroad made by civilisation, 
as represented by this sacred establishment, into the solitude of 
the desert. The shepherds who frequent the lonely grazing- 
erounds of the Keriya River, cannot fail to benefit largely as 
regards their knowledge of the outer world by the stream of 
pilgrims that passes in, the autumn and spring to the local 
saint’s tomb. Is it possible that the Buddhist shrines I un- 
earthed at Dandan-Uiliq had also been once the object of similar 
pilgrimages ? 

Three fairly long marches brought me from the ‘ Mazar’ into 
Keriya. They led along the side of the Keriya River and through 
scenery very much like that passed on the first day after we had 
struck its bank. Every day we saw some reed-huts of shepherds, 
but their occupants seemed to have moved away from the river. 
The belt of vegetation grew broader as we progressed further south, 
but the thickets of trees gradually became rarer and most of the 
ground was covered only with tamarisk scrub and Kumush. These 
alone will grow in the loose sand which the fertilising water is 
unable to reach. The spots where we camped for the night, Bulak 


332 THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA [cuap. xx1. 


and Chogalma, showed as little sien of human habitation as the 
rest of the jungle we had been traversing. But our guide the 
‘Darogha’ knew the camping-places of the shepherds and always 
managed to produce some of this folk to help in collecting fuel. 
The days were hazy, and the murky atmosphere made me regret the 
clear, bracing air of the desert. 

On January 12th, about noon, I arrived at Bostan Langar, a 
tiny hamlet in the midst of a wide, marshy plain where the river 
gathers the outflow of numerous springs. Now all the water-logged 
eround was hard-frozen, and there was no need to follow the turns 
and bends by which the road avoids quagmires. At Bostan 
Langar I was met by Abdullah Khan, an Afghan merchant from 
Pishin, who had been settled in Keriya for some fifteen years. He 
was a fine-looking old man and evidently anxious to make himself 
useful to the ‘Sahibs,’ towards whom he, like his  fellow- 
countrymen all over Turkestan, pretends to cherish a feeling of 
allegiance. Unfortunately disease seems to have played havoc with 
his constitution, and his utility was further impaired by a strange 
confusion of tongues. Persian had long ago passed from Abdullah 
Khan’s knowledge ; Turki he did not appear to have fully learned ; 
and Hindustani he heard so rarely nowadays that conversation in 
it also presented difficulties. My knowledge of Pushtu was too 
scant to permit my judging how much he remembered of his 
mother-tongue. However, the message sent to him in advance had 
been duly grasped, and he had accordingly arranged for quarters 
during my stay at Keriya. 

Soon after meeting this claimant of the ‘‘ Sirkar’s protection ”’ I 
was welcomed in the Amban’s name by a cavalcade of local Begs 
and their followers. The Begs were fat and jovial, and when they 
had convinced themselves that I could really talk their own tongue 
we kept up quite a lively chat while riding on towards the town. 
Etiquette evidently required that they should meet me in their 
quasi-Chinese official garb. The fur-lined little cape of ‘ Khitai’ 
fashion was easily worn over their warm homely ‘Chappans’ or 
long coats. But the black silk cap with the red button of office is 


CHAP. XXI.| WELCOME AT KERIYA 333 


a poor head covering for a good Turki Muhammadan, accustomed to 
shelter his shaven head under a substantial fur cap when the tem- 
perature is so low as it was just then. So my Begs soon. com- 
promised comfort and appearances by making one of their attendants 
wear the cap imposed by their Cathay masters, while they them- 
selves kept their heads warm with mighty furs. 

About four miles from Bostan Langar we reached the edge of 
the cultivated area of the oasis. I was once more among the 
hamlets with their canals and poplar avenues, so uniform in ap- 
pearance all over Turkestan. After a month’s life in the solitude of 
the desert the bustle of these homesteads was a welcome sight. 
‘Yolchi Beg,’ my little terrier, also felt this stirring effect of 
seeing fellow-creatures once more, and we had no little trouble in 
protecting him from the large village dogs which he persisted in 
provoking by his self-assertive behaviour. Keriya town presents 
no very striking appearance even for the wanderer from the 
wilderness, and I was far advanced amidst the low mud-houses of 
its outskirts before I realised that I had entered the headquarters 
of a territory that extends over some five degrees of longitude. 

I was glad to find that the quarters Abdullah Khan had 
arranged for me were in a kind of suburban villa, far removed 
from the Bazar. The house, which belonged to a relative of his, 
a well-known Mullah, proved large and airy. Passing, however, 
a series of half-open courts and halls I arrived at a couple of 
little rooms dimly lighted by a hole in the roof but more com- 
fortable at this season. In one of these I found felts spread and 
a fire blazing, and here I took up my abode. Long before my 
baggage arrived the Amban’s chief interpreter and factotum 
presented himself to deliver his master’s greetings and presents 
of welcome. They were all of a thoroughly practical nature, 
including firewood, fodder for my ponies, sheep and fowls for 
myself, and on so lavish a scale as to render a worthy return a 
little difficult. However, the Amban’s kind intentions were amply 
testified, and, I felt sure, would not suffer from any inadequacy of 
a traveller’s counter-gifts. Etiquette permits the feeing of the 


334 THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA [cuap., xx1. 


bringer of such presents, and I did not fail to impress the 
interpreter with a due sense of my satisfaction. My state visit 
to the Yamen was duly notified for the morrow. 

My interview with Huang-Daloi, the Amban, passed off most 
satisfactorily. At 1 p.m. I rode to his Yamen through the modest 
Bazar of the ‘ Yangi Shahr.’ The tortuous lanes of the equally 
humble ‘‘ Old Town” I avoided by riding outside along the foot of 


STREET IN SUBURB OF KERTIYA. 


the high loess-bank on which it is built. The Yamen of Keriya 
closely resembles the similar structures I saw at Yarkand, 
Karghalik, and Khotan. Architectural etiquette evidently prescribes 
all details as to the direction of the gates, the arrangement of 
the courtyards, nay, even the position of the table and seats in 
the reception-room. The salute of three pop-guns solemnly fired 
at my entry through the outer gate showed that the Amban wanted 


CHAP. XXxI.] THE AMBAN OF KERIYA 335 


to be polite, and the reception he himself accorded to me at the 
inner gate was distinctly hearty. 

Huang-Daloi seemed a man of about forty-five, well built 
and with a ruddy face which bore a look of good-nature and humour. 
He was dressed in elegant Chinese silks; the brocaded yellow 
petticoat and the fine embroidered centre-piece of his state jacket: 


HUANG-DALOI, AMBAN OF KERIYA. 


particularly attracted my attention. I found the little table on 
the raised dais, between the two seats which host and guest 
must always occupy, decked with sweets which looked clean and 
wholesome, and the customary cups of tea replaced by little 
wineglasses of European make. A kind of Madeira had to serve 
in place of the orthodox Cathay beverage ; whether from a wish 


336 THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA [cnap. xxi. 


to please supposed European taste or from the Amban’s own 
predilection I did not know. 

Though my interpreter, Niaz Akhun, the humorous Tungani, 
had not arrived from Khotan with the ponies I had left behind 
on entering the desert, our conversation went on with some ease. 
The Amban’s intelligence made up for the imperfect comprehension 
his ‘ Tungchi’ showed for my Turki. I had to relate to him at 
length how I fared at Dandan-Uiliq, and, of course, took occasion 
to tell him how well all I saw and found there agreed with the 
account old ‘ Tang-Seng,’ @.e., Hiuen-Tsiang, has given us of 
Buddhism in these regions. I only wished that I knew how to 
talk about Buddhist things through the ordinary Chinese inter- 
preter, invariably a Muhammadan with very hazy notions on the 
religious systems en vogue among his infidel masters. When I 
told the Amban of my wish to visit an ancient site which had been 
reported to me north of Niya, the Ni-jang of Hiuen-Tsiang, he 
readily promised the issue of all needful orders for help. My 
thanks and little compliments were always requited by a smile 
so cordial and amiable, that the best diplomatic actor might have 
envied its expressiveness. When I left, escorted according to 
etiquette by the Amban to the side of my pony, I found the whole 
of his retinue, down to the scarlet-dressed executioners, drawn up 
on the way through the inner gate. The dresses of the men 
looked clean and new, and altogether there was an air of neatness 
and order about the place which seemed a reflex of the Amban’s 
personal habits. 

I had searcely left the Yamen when information reached me 
that the Amban was starting immediately to return my visit. So 
I rode back in haste and just managed to get tea ready in time 
and the little inner room of my airy villa tidied up. A cover for 
my camp table was difficult to improvise. White is the colour 
of mourning in China, and hence no ordinary table-cloth would do. 
If I visit Chinese territory again I shall bring a table-cloth of 
auspicious red. This time a light rug from my bed had to do 
instead. I thought I was playing at European court etiquette 


CHAP. XXI.| VISITS OF STATE 337 


when I had to receive as my guest the host of a few minutes ago. 
But it was easy enough to continue a conversation so recently 
broken off, and volumes from my little travelling book-case, 
among them Stanislas Julien’s edition of Hiuen-Tsiang, helped 
to entertain. I showed Huang-Daloi some of the manuscripts 
found at Dandan-Uiliq and let him read the legends of the 
Chinese coins of by-gone dynasties in my collection. He was 
too polite to show whether they interested him as much as my 
camp table, chair, and bed, which he also closely examined. 

I had originally planned a halt of three days at Keriya, but 
the non-arrival of the ponies expected from Khotan caused an 
extension of two more days. To tell the truth, all of us were 
not particularly sorry for the delay. My men, Ram Singh 
included, were glad to have a little respite after the roughing 
and exposure in the desert. I myself, the interviews with the 
Amban once over, found so much to do in the way of notes to 
be written up, accounts to be prepared, &c., that I could scarcely 
spare an hour for a daily walk in the dusk. Dandan-Uiliq was 
no place for clerical work, and it was only now that I was able 
to write a short account of my work there for the Royal Asiatic 
Society's Journal. The last four days at Keriya were cold and 
gloomy. On the 14th and 15th of January there were light falls 
of snow, scarcely more than an inch deep each day, yet sufficient 
to give a thoroughly wintry aspect to the bare fields along the 
river. It was cheerful to have a fire by which to spend the days 
of busy work. But I missed in my little den the light and ‘ plein 
air’ of my camp life. As usual in all houses of Khotan and the 
- regions around, light is admitted to the inner rooms inhabited 
during the winter only by a small square opening in the roof. It 
is naturally scanty and ill-distributed. 

My inquiries for antiquities made through Abdullah Khan and 
others brought me little that was of interest. Keriya is not itself 
an old place and the “ treasure-seeking ”’ profession does not flourish 
as in Khotan. But on the first day after my arrival I received 
information about ancient remains in the desert north of Niya 

23 


338 THROUGH THE DESERT TO KERIYA [cHapP. xxi. 


which decided me to extend my tour in that direction. Abdullah, 
a respectable cultivator of Keriya, told me of having seen about 
ten years earlier houses evidently of the same type as at Dandan- 
Uiliq, half buried in the sand, some marches beyond the famous 
Mazar of Imam Jafar Sadik. Others too had heard stories of 
this ‘old town.’ The eagerly expected ponies for some unaccount- 
able reason had failed as yet to arrive. But in a country where 
there is neither telegraph nor a real post-office, one learns to take 
such little delays calmly, and the Amban’s help amply provided 
for all needful transport. 


CHAPTER XXII 
TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFAR SADIK 


On the morning of the 18th of January I started in glorious sunshine, 
doubly enjoyable after the confinement of the last few days. As 
usual after a halt of some days, my caravan took a good deal of 
time to set out again. So there was sufficient delay to allow half 
the boys and idlers of ‘Old Keriya’ to gather in the road and on 
the roofs of surrounding houses to watch the exciting spectacle. 
The jovial fat Begs of Keriya and Niya (the latter away from his 
charge for the time) duly saw me off. After crossing the river-bed, 
about a quarter of a mile broad, but now all dry but for a modest 
streak of water, we passed the little villages of Besh-toghrak and 
Ghadghang. Scarcely two miles beyond the town we were again 
in barren sands, the outskirts of the great desert northwards. On 
the right an absolutely bare plain of coarse sand and pebbles leads 
up gradually like an enormous glacis to the foot of the mountain- 
wall rising to the south. It was the outer range of the Kuen-luen, 
east of Polu, usually hidden by the haze from the eyes of the 
traveller who follows this ancient route to the Lop-nor region and 
the confines of true Cathay. One or two peaks, which Ram Singh 
had triangulated on his trip east of Pisha, were clearly recognisable 
again and offered safe points for further survey work. The outer 
range was completely covered with recent snow and thus looked 
more imposing than it probably does at other times. The high 
peaks about Polu and behind, which reach up to 21,000 ft. and 


more, glittered dimly in the distance. 
339 


340 TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFAR SADIK [cHaP. xxul. 


Ui-toghrak, reached after an easy march of about fourteen miles, is 
a small oasis of some two hundred houses, scattered about in hamlets. 
Under the trees and elsewhere in the shade a good deal of snow 
still lay on the ground. The wind all day was biting cold, and 
I gladly availed myself of the shelter prepared for my party in 
the roomy house of a local ‘Bai.’ Clean mud walls and gaily- 
coloured Khotan felts (‘ Kirghiz’) make even a bare little room 
look cheerful and homely on a winter evening. 

Clouds had come up in the evening and stopped the astronomical 
observations for latitude. On the morning of January 19th it was 
snowing hard when I got up, and the white trees of the orchard 
behind the house looked delightfully European. The temperature 
at 8 a.m. was 9° Fahr. The snow stopped by the time I got 
my carayan to move off, but all day the clouds hung low and 
the mountains were hidden. The ground traversed was a pebbly 
‘Sai’ very much like the soil on most of the marches to Khotan. 
High ridges of sand were visible on the left, stretching away to 
the north. After a ride of about sixteen miles we passed the broad 
and shallow bed of a stream now completely dry, and a little 
beyond arrived at the tiny oasis of Yesyulghun. It consists of 
about a dozen mud-hovels, which serve as wayside quarters for 
travellers to Niya and the goldfields of Surghak. The few fields 
irrigated in the summer would not suffice for the keep of the 
inhabitants, who derive their maintenance from providing quarters 
and supplies. The water of the place is obtained from a well, said 
to be 40 ‘Gulach’ (fathoms) deep, and it was curious to observe 
how this form of water supply has affected the topography of the 
hamlet. Whereas in Turkestan villages the houses are usually 
scattered about among fields and gardens, the dwellings of 
Yesyulghun range themselves neatly round the open space 
with the well in the centre just as if it were a market-place. 
Some fine old poplars growing in a group near by on the edge 
of a storage tank give a picturesque look to the spot. 

The clouds cleared overnight, and the minimum thermometer 
showed —1° Fahr. The mountains immediately south again became 


CHAP. XXII. ] YESYULGHUN AND OVRAZ 341 


visible, and I could recognise the valley at the entrance of which 
the Surghak gold mines lie. The march was over a stony steppe 
and almost too short, only about eleven miles. But our ‘ Darogha’ 
thought, probably rightly, that the camels could not cover the whole 
distance to Niya in one day, and as there is neither water nor shelter 
to be found on the remaining twenty-four miles, I had to acquiesce. 
Ovraz Langar consists of a solitary mud-house, tenanted by a 
‘Langarchi.’ Supplies and ice had been sent on from Ui-toghrak, 
so we were fairly comfortable. The room I occupied was low, and 
the fireplace smoked badly ; but even thus it was preferable to a tent 
in the sharp wind that blew from the east. 

The start for Niya next morning was made cheerful by the 
arrival of Niaz Akhun, who, with the ponies and my mail from 
Khotan, overtook me before I had left Ovraz Langar. He brought 
me letters from home which had travelled by the Farghana route to 
Kashgar and thence by Chinese post. The latest of them had left 
my brother’s hand on the 7th of December, and seemed quite recent, 
considering that the mail from Europe that reached me via Gilgit 
bore dates in the second week of October. It was impossible to 
ignore the postal advantages which the Trans-Caspian railway has 
secured for the European in Central Asia, though for safety I 
preferred to rely on the Indian post-office and its Dak via Hunza. 

The whole of the twenty-four miles’ march from Ovraz Langar 
lay over a pebble-strewn ‘ Sai,’ the detritus washed down from the 
ereat southern range. Here and there sand-dunes advancing from 
the desert stretched their last offshoots across the hard ‘ Sai.’ 
There was no trace of vegetation until we got within about six miles 
of the Niya oasis, when tamarisks and some hardy brushwood 
appeared in small patches. The oasis of Niya is formed by a series 
of hamlets and villages extending along the river that leaves the 
mountains near Surghak. In its upper course it is known as the 
‘Darya’ of the Ulugh-Sai Valley. After 8 p.m. I had reached 
the western edge of the cultivated area at the hamlet of Kang- 
sarigh, and a further two miles brought. me into the central village 
containing the Bazar of Niya. I was received in due form by the 


342 TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFAR SADIK [cHApP. xxtI. 


local Beg’s deputy, and found decent quarters prepared in a Bai’s 
house close to the entrance of the Bazar. It was the weekly 
market day of Niya, and though it was getting dark in the narrow 
street overhung by awnings, there was still busy life in front of the 
booths that line its sides for about a furlong. There were plenty of 
dried fruits, plums, raisins from Khotan, with tea and various 
condiments of Chinese origin. Excellent walnuts and fair red 
grapes were local produce. People seemed busy buying such little 
luxuries on account of the Id festival, marking the close of the 
Ramzan fast. 

My people had as travellers taken dispensation from the obsery- 
ance of Ramzan, yet they were anxious to celebrate the day in due 
fashion as good Muslims, and hence asked for a halt on January 
29nd. I could not well refuse the request, particularly as arrange- 
ments had to be made for the labourers and the supplies which were 
to be taken to the desert site I was bound for. All Niya was in 
holiday attire, and the prayers from the mosque sounded sonorously 
into my room. Iwas busy with making up my mails for India and 
home, but used the bright midday hours to take photographs of 
local people. There were plenty of fine-looking greybeards to 
choose from, and no want of nicely-dressed children. Shy at 
first, the little ones were readily enticed before my camera by the 
present of a few coppers for sweets. ‘ Diwanas,’ too, or wandering 
mendicants, in fantastic rags showing patches in all colours of 
the rainbow did not object to giving a sitting in return for my 
alms. The rural population here, as at Khotan, shows on the 
whole remarkably good features—of course, Caucasian as the 
popular term has it. Noticing the thoroughly European appearance 
of physiognomies in the great mass of this Turki population, I feel 
inclined to wonder at all the efforts that have been made to account 
for the same fact in the Western Turks and their kindred in Europe. 

Niya is an ancient place. Hiuen-Tsiang, travelling towards 
Lop-nor and China, duly notices the town of Ni-jang, t.c., Niya, 
which ‘the king of Khotan makes the guard of his eastern 
frontier.” Niya remained, indeed, the easternmost of the smaller 


CHAP. XXII. | A PROMISING FIND 343 


oases included in the Khotan district until the construction in 
recent times of Keriya as a separate administrative unit. The 
pilgrim’s description shows that the desert pressed then, as now, 
close round the small oasis. A huge jar of ancient pottery, nearly 
3 feet in diameter, which had been found years ago at the old 
site to be visited, was at first the only antiquity that Niya could 
show me. But in the afternoon I received unexpected proof of the 


VILLAGE BOYS AT NIYA. 


great age of the ruined site I was to visit. Hassan Akhun, my 
inquisitive young camel-man, had accidentally come across a villager 
possessing two inscribed wooden tablets brought away from that 
site. When these objects were produced before me, I discovered to 
my joyful surprise that they contained writing in that ancient script 
of the extreme North-West of India known as Kharoshthi, and of a 
type which closely agreed with that prevailing during the period of 
Kushana rule in the first centuries of our era. 


344 TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFAR SADIK [cuap. XXII. 


The man who brought me the tablets had picked them up on the 
road to Imam Jafar’s Mazar. But I soon ascertained the original 
finder in the person of Ibrahim, an enterprising young villager who 
had dug them out from a “‘house of the old town” in the desert 
beyond. He had gone there a year before in search of treasure, 
but had found only a number of these,.to him, useless tablets. He 
brought away six, only to throw some away on the road and to give 
the rest to his children to play with. The latter specimens were 
soon destroyed, and Tbrahim now greatly regretted their loss, when 
he saw how well I rewarded the more sensible man who had picked 
up what he had cast aside. I tried to hide my delight as well as I 
could, but did not fail to secure Ibrahim as a guide for my party, 
and to assure him of a good reward if he could show me the ruined 
structure where he made his find. Kharoshthi writing had before 
been found in Central Asia only on the earliest Khotan coins 
approximately assigned to the first and second centuries of our era, 
and in those remarkable fragments of a birch-bark codex which 
M. Dutreuil de Rhins, the ill-starred French traveller, acquired in 
Khotan in 1892. It was a happy evening when I examined these 
most promising finds. The very cursive form of the writing and 
the faded appearance of the ink prevented any attempt at immediate 
decipherment. Certain linguistic features seemed to prove that the 
tablets I held in my hands contained documents with an early Indian 
text, and the writing alone sufficed to assure me of the antiquity of 
the ruins that had furnished them. But full of expectation as I 
was, I little anticipated at the time what a rich harvest was awaiting 
me there. 

A three days’ march from Niya brought me to Imam Jafar Sadik’s 
shrine, the starting-point of my fresh expedition into the desert. 
Scenery as well as the weather helped to make these days pleasant. 
I left Niya on a delightfully sunny morning, and the sky kept clear 
all the way, but the cold was still severe, the temperature at night 
falling to somewhere about 8° Fahr. below zero, and in daytime 
never rising much above 22° Fahr. 

The route lay, of course, all along the Niya River, as the “old 


CHAP. XXII.] MARCH ALONG NIYA RIVER 345 


town” of my present quest had to be reached trom where the river 
dies away in the sand. Its course proved almost as winding as that. 
of the Keriya Darya, but its volume far smaller. Just like the river 
of Keriya, the Niya stream gathers water from springs and marshes 
a short distance below the town. This is, of course, the water that 
has been absorbed higher up by irrigation channels, and comes 
again to the surface lower down. Very soon after losing sight of 
the cultivated area we were in a broad belt of jungle land covered 
with luxuriant Kumush and forest vegetation. The sands receded 
to more than two miles from the left river-bank, and nearly as much 
from the right. The route, owing to the large number of pilgrims 
who annually frequent Imam Jafar’s Mazar in the autumn, had the 
well-trodden look of a high-road. On the first day it touched again 
and again the bank of the stream, now a glittering sheet of ice. Its 
breadth was there usually 80-85 yards, its depth as far as I could 
ascertain from holes that had been cut into the thick ice, nowhere 
more than about 8 feet. As the banks were only about 2-8 feet 
above the surface of the ice, it is probable that during the time of 
the melting snows a good deal of overflow must occur. This may 
account for the luxuriance of the jungle growth that distinguishes 
the riverine belt. The grazing-grounds of the Niya shepherds 
begin, therefore, close below the little oasis, and evidently main- 
tain .a ‘considerable number of flocks. They are said to be 
divided among ten shepherd stations, and all belong to ‘ Bais’ 
of Niya. 

The thought that all this fertile stretch of ground might well be 
brought under cultivation had occupied me as I rode along. It was, 
therefore, a pleasant sight to me when a little below Nagara-khana, 
the shepherd’s hut where my first night’s camp had been pitched, I 
came upon the head of a canal begun only two years previously 
under the Amban’s orders. From this point, which is about nineteen 
miles distant from Niya Bazar, the fertile belt of soil widened 
considerably, and the ridges of the desert sand disappeared from 
view. The river winds away on the eastern side, while the route 
led through the central part of what looked like a small tract of 


346 TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFAR SADIK [comap. xxi. 


jungle. Close to the route runs the new.canal, a modest work so 
far, only 6-8 feet broad, yet likely to bring life and wealth to this 
lonely woodland. The soil is a fertile loess, and the level of the 
ground so uniform that its irrigation will be easy when the jungle is 
once cleared away. 

For over eight miles we followed the canal, and I pictured to my 
mind the changes it is likely to bring soon to this silent scene. No 
doubt in ancient times irrigation was carried all along the streams 
which cut into the desert area, and by a careful storage of their 
waters probably much ground beyond, that now seems irretrievably 
lost to the moving sands, was secured for cultivation. A strong and 
capable administration, whether on European or Eastern lines, 
might any day take up again the old struggle with the desert and 
successfully push forward the borders of human habitation, just as it 
has in the Turkoman steppes and the Doabs of the Punjab, by 
nature scarcely less arid. But whence is that impulse to come? 

Wherever the forest left sufficient open ground I could see the 
distant snowy range rising far away to the south of Niya. The 
atmosphere kept so clear that even up to Otra Langar, where a few 
reed huts form a halfway rest-house for the pilgrims, our position 
on the plane-table could always be fixed by intersections from the 
prominent points in the great mountain range. Truly a remarkable 
testimony in favour of the winter atmosphere of the desert, 
considering that at Otra Langar we were close on seventy miles away 
from the nearest of those peaks. 

But these distant vistas ceased when the thickets of poplars and 
tamarisks were entered a little beyond that station. Here the 
woodland seemed to expand considerably over ground that bears 
ample evidence of having once been occupied by the shifting bed of 
the river. According to our shepherd guides the width of the jungle 
tract is here 8-10 miles, and the bearings obtained from certain 
elevated points on the day’s march seemed to confirm this estimate. 
Under the trees and in all depressions of the ground there remained 
a thin layer of snow, evidently of the previous week’s fall. With 
the bare trees and their thick undergrowth it made up a landscape 


cHap. xxu.] THROUGH RIVERINE JUNGLE 347 


that reminded me more of a winter scene in Northern Europe than 
anything I had seen for long years. 

For over twelve miles we rode through the forest without getting 
a glimpse of the river or of a shepherd’s hut that might have 
indicated its vicinity. At last a little before sunset we reached the 
deserted reed-huts of Débe-Bostan, the second camping-ground. 
Here the sandhills of the desert-edge reappeared westwards, while 
the river came again within reach about a mile off to the east. The 
camels with the baggage did not arrive until 7 p.m. My men kept 
up splendid bonfires with the fallen trees close at hand, and thus I 
was able to enjoy the delightfully clear night sky without feeling 
the cold too acutely. But when my tent was ready at last the 
temperature in it was 10° Fahr. 

My march on the 26th of January was considerably shorter, only 
about thirteen miles, and brought us to the famous Mazar that 
was to be our point of departure for the desert, The river, when 
we met it again in the morning, appeared as a narrow band of ice 
scarcely over 20 feet in width, and yet constantly sending off little 
branches. It looked as if the much-reduced stream were trying 
where it could bury itself quickest. Yet just here, so near its end, 
the fertilising power of its water visibly reasserted itself. The 
trees increased in size and the shrubs in height as we came nearer 
to the shrine, and the scenery around the latter looked quite pretty 
even in the bareness of its winter dress. Scattered at various points 
amidst groves of large poplars are huts intended for the shelter of 
pilgrims. On the ridge. of what looked like a huge sand-dune to 
the west there appeared a tangled mass of stafis and flags of all 
kinds, marking the resting-place of the martyr prince whose memory 
renders the place sacred. At last we were in front of the collection 
of mosques, Madrasahs and houses of the hereditary attendants 
which make up the ‘Mazar.’ It looked imposing enough to eyes 
that had seen besides the desert only the mud huts of Keriya and 
Niya for the last two months. A group of little lakes, formed 
apparently by the river between the group of buildings and the hill 
which the tomb crowns, greatly added to the picturesqueness of 


the scene. 


348 TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFAR SADIK [cuap. xxi. 


After a rapid inspection of the buildings, among which only a 
large quadrangular Madrasah built by Niaz Hakim Beg with burnt 
bricks can claim some merit, I proceeded across the ice of the 
northernmost lake to the hill opposite. Its foot is occupied by 
sroves of fine old trees, amidst which pious donors have erected 
praying platforms and various little Sarais for pilgrims and the 
scholars who attend the school of the shrine. All the trees were 


TREES WITH EX-VOTOS, ON PATH TO IMAM JAFAR SADIK’S TOMB. 


decked with little flags, yak tails or simple rags, the votive offerings 
of visitors. The path to the hilltop ascends through a large 
number of rough wooden arches, all bearing the same marks of 
pilgrims’ devotion. At the first of these arches there is to be 
seen the motliest collection imaginable of rags. All colours 
and materials are represented, from fine Indian muslin to 
Birmingham cotton prints, Chinese silks, Russian chintzes, and 


CHAP. XXII. | SHRINE OF IMAM JAFAR 349 


the coarse ‘Kham’ of the country. The custom which prompts 
pilgrims to leave behind these tokens of their devotion prevails 
equally at Muhammadan and Hindu pilgrimage places throughout 
India. I thought at the time how curious an archeological find 
this exhibition of textile samples would make if it were safely buried 
beneath the sands and laid bare again after centuries. 

The pilgrims’ path to the tomb winds round the hill, and on its 
inner side are everywhere little heaps of earth arranged like graves. 
They are intended to symbolise the resting-places of the ‘ Shahids,’ 
the faithful Muslims who fell here with Imam Jafar Sadik, their holy 
leader, fighting the infidels of ‘ Chin and Machin,’ i.c., Khotan, as 
related in the Taskirah or legendary of the shrine. More curious to 
me, however, was the observation that the hill, which rises about 
170 feet above the lake, does not consist of sand but of stony 
detritus overlying reefs of salt. The latter crops out at several | 
points and is of greyish-white colour. The presence of rock-salt, 
and of the gravel which covers it, is remarkable enough in this 
locality. Both to the west and east of the riverine belt there is 
nothing but sand. If the sanctity of the hill goes back to pre- 
Muhammadan times, as is likely enough in view of what has been 
observed of other pilgrimage places in this region, this natural 
peculiarity would suffice to explain it. 

From the hilltop we enjoyed an extensive view over the desert 
northward. The forest, which marks the extent of the river’s 
fertilising influence, seemed to die away some six or seven miles 
beyond the Mazar. The stream, before losing itself in the sand, 
takes a turn to the north-west, and that direction, too, my guides 
indicated for the ancient site. . 

It took a long time to get my caravan into marching order on 
the morning of January 26th. The men went in turns to pay 
their respects to the saint’s tomb on the hilltop, and later on the 
filling and securing of the water-tanks that were to supply us at 
the ‘old town” caused further delay. No water is to be got by 
digging at the site I was about to visit, and accordingly I knew 
that we should have to depend for a lengthy stay on the tanks. 


300 TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFPAR SADIK [cHap. xxti. 


Those two, which had come all the way from Calcutta, being con- 
structed of strong galvanised iron, had already during their use at 
Dandan-Uiliq proved equal to the strain caused by the freezing of 
their contents. In hot Caleutta, I confess, neither the makers 
(Messrs. Thomson) nor I myself had thought of nights like the 
last one, when the minimum thermometer showed 12° F. below zero, 
our lowest temperature yet recorded. The other tanks, notwith- 
standing the precautions taken, proved to have sprung leaks owing 
to expansion, when the ice into which their contents had turned 
was again melted. Luckily the great cold prevailing permitted 
the transport of additional ice in improvised sacks and nets— 
a most useful expedient which materially facilitated the regular 
supply of the indispensable minimum of water while my camp, 
counting from forty to fifty people, was pitched far out in the 
desert. 

The day was brilliantly clear and the sunshine and the gay 
colours of the landscape made the march quite enjoyable through 
the forest land where the river finally loses itself in the sand. 
About three miles below the Mazar the tiny river-course spreads 
out in some shallow marshes and then finally disappears, at least 
in winter-time. During summer the flood water, as shown by the 
deep-cut ‘Yars’ or ravines we passed several miles lower down, 
is carried for some distance further. Near the marsh known as 
Tulkuch-kol lie the huts and the sheep-pens of Nurullah, the 
guardian of the flocks which belong to the shrine. These were 
said to number over four thousand sheep; and Nurullah, who acted 
as our guide up to the end of the grazing-grounds, plainly showed 
by his get-up and manners that he was more than a common ‘ Koi- 
chi,’ or shepherd. He cultivates close to his huts a plot of land 
which produces wheat and maize sufficient to maintain his family. 
At this little farm the ponies were to remain during our stay in the 
desert. 

The trees grow so thickly in this amply-watered tract that the 
camels had often to halt until a path could be cleared for them. 
Everywhere the traces of deer, hares and other game were to be 


CHAP. XXII. | START FOR ANCIENT SITE B51 


seen. Gradually the jungle area became more and more invaded 
by drift-sand ; clumps of trees which had withered and died showed 
themselves more frequently; and at last, some eight miles below 
the Mazar, the forest changed to a wide expanse of low sand-cones 
thickly overgrown with tamarisks and a hardy shrub known as 
Ak-tiken. Groups of dead poplars and other trees rose between, 
their large stems now gaunt and twisted by age, bearing evidence 
of a time when the river carried life further into the desert. From 
a high sand-hill close to my camp I could see how the scrubby 
jungle spreads out between the great ridges of sand that mark on 
the east and west the commencement of the true desert. The 
breadth of this area was here fully four miles, and at various points 
it formed bays that indent still further into the true desert. The 
old course of the river must have extended towards the north-west ; 
for in that direction the jungle-scrub could be seen for a con- 
siderable distance spreading over ground, nowhere broken by high 
ridges of sand. 

The surmise I formed, that the ancient site would be reached by 
following these traces of the former river-course, was confirmed 
by the next day’s march. This also showed, for the first time in 
my experience of the desert, that the distance given by the local 
euides was exaggerated. I had been told that the ruins to be 
visited would be reached in three marches from Imam Jafar’s 
shrine. In reality we reached the southern edge of the area con- 
taining them by a second easy march of about fourteen miles on the 
27th of January. It lay all along in the direction—more exactly 
N.N.W.—in which on the previous evening I had sighted the con- 
tinuation of the old river-bed. For the first five miles or so the 
patches of dead forest were so thick that we had often to pick 
with care a way for the camels. Tamarisk brushwood still grew 
vigorously amidst the dead trees, chiefly Toghrak. The time when 
the latter flourished equally cannot have been very remote. For 
many of the lifeless trees still retained their branches, unlike the 
shrivelled skeletons of trunks seen elsewhere. A dry channel, 
about 4 feet deep, could be traced for some distance, winding 


302 TO NIYA AND IMAM JAFAR SADIK  [cwap. xxir. 


along the eastern edge of the old jungle. The men promptly called 
it the ‘ Ustang’ (canal) of the “‘old town.” But I was unable to 
find any proof of its artificial origin. 

Further down we had to pass through a belt of steep, conical 
sand-knolls from 15 to-30 feet high, rising close together and all 
covered on their tops with tangled masses of living and dead 
tamarisks. On the northern slopes the snow that had fallen a 
week before still lay plentifully to the depth of an inch. In the 
midst of this belt, extending for a distance of about three miles 
from south to north, I came upon broken pottery remains and an 
enclosure made of thickly-packed rushes. Inside it the men recog- 
nised trunks of fruit-trees and planted poplars, or ‘ Terek.’ We 
had evidently passed the site of some ancient farm. Beyond, the 
sand-hills were lower, but also bare. Living tamarisk bushes 
could be seen only on isolated sand-cones rising here and there 
over the low dunes. Pottery fragments strewn over the sand, with 
bits of slag and similar hard refuse, assured my guides that we were 
near the goal. 

Soon I sighted the first two “‘ houses,” standing on what looked 
at first sight like small elevated plateaus, but which subsequent 
observation proved to be merely portions of the original loess soil 
that had escaped the erosion proceeding all round. The wooden 
posts of these buildings rose far higher above the sand than in the 
case of the dwellings at Dandan-Uiliq. A rapid inspection sufficed 
to show that their mode of construction was materially the same ; 
but the dimensions here were larger and the timber framework was 
far more elaborate and solid. That these remains were of far 
sreater antiquity became evident almost immediately when, in a 
room of one of the houses, I came upon some finely carved pieces of 
wood lying practically on the surface, which displayed ornaments 
of a type common to early Gandhara sculptures. Marching about 
two miles further north across fairly high dunes, I arrived at a 
ruined structure of sun-dried bricks, which Abdullah had already 
mentioned to me at Keriya as a ‘ Potai.’ It proved, as I had 
expected, to be the remains of a small Stupa, buried for the most 


CHAP. Xx] ARRIVAL AT RUINS 353 


part by the slope of a high conical sand-hill, and hence compara- 
tively well preserved. 

Close to it I pitched my camp, in a position conveniently central 
for the exploration of the scattered ruins. The ground in the 
immediate vicinity seemed greatly eroded and, where not actually 
covered by dunes, displayed in profusion large pieces of broken 
pottery, withered trunks of poplars and garden trees, as well as 
much decayed remains of ancient timber that splintered and broke 
almost as soon as lifted. Even more than this débris, the frag- 
ments of stone that covered the bare loess, evidently the remains 
of larger pieces that must have been brought here from the river- 
bed near the foot of the mountains for use in the houses, attested 
the destructive force of the desert winds and of the extremes of 
climate. As I retired to my first night’s rest among these silent 
witnesses of ancient habitations, I wondered with some apprehen- 
sion whether Ibrahim’s story would prove true, and how much of 
the other precious documents on wood which he declared to have 
left behind at the time of his ‘prospecting’ visit were still 
waiting to be recovered by me. 


24 


RUINS OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE (N. itil) WITH GARDEN. 


CHAPTER XXIII 
FIRST EXCAVATION OF KHAROSHTHI TABLETS 


My first business on the morning of the 28th of January was to 
despatch Ram Singh with Ibrahim Akhun, our plucky little Darogha, 
on areconnoitring expedition westwards. They were to observe how 
far fuel and ground easy enough for laden camels could be found in 
that direction. My object was to make sure whether, on the con- 
clusion of my work at this site, an attempt could safely be made to 
moye my caravan straight across the desert to the ruins of Aktiken 
or Karadong, which were to be visited on the lower Keriya Darya. 
In the event of no objective offering for exploration further to the 
east, this march of some fifty miles through the desert might save 
us the great detour via Niya and Keriya. 

As soon as I had seen the little party safely off with camels to 
ride and a sufficient store of ice and food, I hastened to set out 
to the ruined building, where Ibrahim had a year previously picked 
up his ancient tablets inscribed with Kharoshthi characters. At 
Niya he had declared that plenty more of them were left in situ. 


It had been impossible to hide from him the value which I attached 
354 


cHAP. xxuI.]| SEARCH OF FIRST FIND-PLACE 305 


to these tablets, and as he subsequently seemed to regret not having 
himself made a haul of them, I had him watched en route, and after 
our arrival to prevent his escape or any possible interference with 
the spot. The mingled feelings of expectation and distrust with 
which I now approached it soon changed to joyful assurance. 
About a mile to the east of the camp I sighted the ruin towards 
which Ibrahim was guiding us, on what looked like a little terrace 
rising high above the depressions of the ground caused by the 
erosive action of the wind. On ascending the slope I picked up 
at once three inscribed tablets lying amidst the débris of massive 
timber that marked wholly eroded parts of the ruined structure ; and 
on reaching the top, I found to my delight many more scattered 
about within one of the rooms, still clearly traceable by remains of 
their walls. 

Only a year had passed since Ibrahim had thrown them down 
there, and the layer of drift-sand was so thin as scarcely. to protect 
the topmost ones from the snow that still lay on the ground. 
Ibrahim at once showed me the spot where he had unearthed the 
relics he had treated in such utter ignorance of their value. It 
proved to be the south-west corner of a small room, which was 
situated between other apartments in the northern wing of the 
building, and is seen on the left in the photograph showing 
this ruin (N. I.) after excavation. There in a little recess, about 
4 feet wide, between the large brick-built fireplace, well recog- 
nisable above the sand and the west wall of the room, he had come 
upon a heap of tablets by scooping out the sand with his hands. 
The “ treasure’”’ he looked for was not there, and the ancient 
documents which he found, apparently still lying in horizontal rows 
with some sort of arrangement, were thrown away into the next 
room. I blessed the good luck which had brought me to the site 
so soon after this discovery. For, fully exposed to wind and sun, 
these thin wooden boards could not long have retained their writing 
in such wonderful freshness as they had during their safe interment 
of many centuries beneath the drift of sand. . As it was, the sun of 
one year and perhaps the recent snow (patches of it are seen on 


GaaIWOsNti 


C0) 


GOVId-GNIA Tsuda ‘(*1 ‘N) DNIGTINd GANION 


CHAP. XXIII. | AN ABUNDANT HAUL 307 


the ground in the photograph opposite) had bleached and partly 
effaced the fully exposed writing of the topmost tablets. 

My first task was to put a guard over the place where Ibrahim 
had scattered these precious finds, so as to prevent further injury 
or abstraction. Then the men were set to work to clear the room 
where he had first come upon them. It was an easy matter, as 
the room measured only 14 by 16 feet, and the sand which covered 
its floor was not deep. On the north side, near the eroded slope, 
it only lay to a depth of about 2 feet, which increased to about 
4 feet towards the south wall. While this clearing proceeded, I 
had time to examine more carefully the character of the whole 
structure. It was essentially one based on the use of timber, which 
the forest land along the river and the plantations of ‘'Terek’ or 
white poplar subsequently traced at many points of the ancient site 
must have supplied in abundance. Massive wooden beams, which 
surprised my workmen by their thickness and perfect finish, formed 
a kind of foundation. On this were set wooden posts about 
4 inches square, which supported the roof and at the same time 
served as a frame for the walls. These and smaller intermediary 
posts, fixed at regular intervals of about a foot, were joined by light 
cross-beams, of which some were still found in position. To this 
framework was fixed a strong kind of matting of tamarisk branches 
woven diagonally, which again was covered on each side with layers 
of hard, white plaster of varying thickness. .The walls had com- 
pletely decayed where not actually covered by sand, but most of the 
posts originally holding them, now bleached and splintered, still 
rose high above the surface. 

As the room was gradually cleared, about two dozen inscribed 
tablets were found at various points of the original floor and on the 
raised platform that flanked the fireplace on the west. There was 
nothing to indicate whether they had been separated from the main 
deposit of documents which Ibrahim had lighted upon in the recess 
at the south-west corner of the room. The careful search which I 
then made myself for the scattered remains of his find, resulted in 
the recovery of no less than eighty-five tablets, and asthe clearing 


358 EXCAVATION OF KHAROSHTHI TABLETS [owap. xxm1. 


of the remaining rooms of the north wing still further added to 
their number, I found myself before the day’s work was done in 
possession of materials far more abundant than I could reasonably 
have hoped for. 

The remarkable state of preservation in which a considerable 
portion of the wooden tablets was found made it easy for me, even 
during a first cursory examination on the spot, to acquaint myself 
with the main features of their use and outward arrangement. 
With the exception of a few oblong pieces, all tablets found 
that day were wedge-shaped, from 7 to 15 inches long, and 
showed evidence of having been originally arranged in pairs. 
These pairs had been held together by a string which passed round 
the square ends of the wedges, usually from from 24 to 14 inches 
broad, and also through a hole drilled into both tablets where their 
left end tapered to a point. In the case of many such double 
tablets, even where the two pieces had got detached, portions of the 
ancient string were still intact, and on some also the clay sealing 
which had been inserted over the string in a specially prepared 
square socket. But it was only by the subsequent discovery of 
practically perfect specimens that I was able to ascertain all details 
of the ingenious method of fastening adopted for these ancient 
documents on wood. I therefore leave their full description, as 
well as that of other technicalities connected with their use, for a 
later chapter. . 

The text, invariably written in Kharoshthi characters, and 
running from right to left parallel to the longer side, occupied the 
inner surfaces of the tablets, 7.¢c., those originally turned towards 
each other when the tablets were still fastened in pairs. On the 
outside surface which bore the clay seal, and soon proved to have 
served the purposes of a kind of envelope, there usually appeared 
brief entries in the same script, forming a single line. Their very 
position and form at once suggested that they were intended either 
as records of the contents or else to convey the names of the sender 
or addressee. It was naturally with intense curiosity that I 
examined the writing of each tablet as it was extracted from the 


‘SLATAVI NHGOOM NO SEINANWOAO0d IHLHSOUVAM 


(‘pary}-9uo0 avo) 


CspiTy}-OM} apeog) 


(‘patyj-au0 ayes) 


“psooal ;, 8/Y,, Fususezuoo “(Z “IAxX *N) Ja/Ge) padeys-ezYyye] 


“SUIIIM WBUWNJOD SulMoYs ‘(EZ “Al ‘N) B/OY YRIM Je;qe, Suojqo 


‘yeas payowpye ypm “(Ley ‘AX “N) 79/92) a/qnop padeys-aspey 


359 


360 EXCAVATION OF KHAROSHTHI TABLETS [cuap. xxin. 


sand. Where double tablets had remained together. and thus pro- 
tected each other, the black ink of the Kharoshthi lines written on 
the inner surface looked as fresh as if penned yesterday. On 
others it was necessary to apply the brush to clear away an 
adherent crust of sand, but only on comparatively few had the 
writing faded so far as to become illegible. 

It was easy to recognise that the tablets, though written by 
many different hands, showed throughout the characteristic pecu- 
liarities of that type of Kharoshthi writing which in India is 
invariably exhibited by the inscriptions of the so-called Kushana or 
Indo-Scythian kings. The period during which these kings ruled 
over the Punjab and the regions to the west of the Indus falls 
within the first three centuries of our era. The earliest coins of 
Khotan and the fragmentary birch-bark leaves of the Dutreuil de 
Rhins Manuscript, which were the only relics of Kharoshthi writing 
so far known in Central Asia, have with good reason been assigned 
to the same period. Thus even while still engaged in gathering 
the remarkable documents that were coming to light here in such. 
surprising numbers, and long before any careful examination 
became possible, I felt absolutely assured as to their high antiquity 
and exceptional value. 

And yet during that day’s animating labours and as I marched 
back to camp in the failing light of the evening, there remained a 
thought that prevented my archeological conscience from becoming — 
over-triumphant. It was true that the collected text of the 
hundred odd tablets, which I was carrying away carefully packed 
and labelled as the result of my first day’s work, could not fall 
much short of, if it did not exceed, the aggregate of all the 
materials previously available for the study of Kharoshthi, whether 
in or outside India. But was it not possible that these strange 
records, with the striking similarity of their outward form and almost 
all, as I had noticed, showing when complete an identical short 
formula at their commencement, might prove to be mere replicas of 
the same text, perhaps a prayer or an extract from sacred Buddhist 
writings ? The care taken about the sealing of most of the tablets 


OHAP. XXIII. | FIRST DECIPHERMENT 361 


seemed indeed to point to contents of a more practical nature— 
letters, perhaps, and contracts or documents of some official 
character. I knew well that the historical and antiquarian interest 
of the finds, if they were really to furnish such records, would be 
increased beyond all proportion. Yet the supposition seemed 
almost too good to be readily indulged in. 

Once in the comparative shelter of my tent, as soon as the 
detailed account of the first excavations had been written up, I 
began with impatience to compare and study the best preserved of 
those remarkable tablets. I knew from the experience furnished 
by the Dutreuil de Rhins fragments and more than one Kharoshthi 
stone inscription from the Punjab, how serious a task the proper 
decipherment of these documents would necessarily prove even to 
the epigraphist working in his study. I was thus prepared for the 
exceptional difficulties likely to be presented by the cursive 
character of the writing and all the uncertainties as to the lan- 
guage and contents. Yet sitting up that evening wrapped in my 
furs until the increasing cold drove me to seek refuge in bed—the 
- thermometer showed next morning a minimum of 9° Fahr. below 
zero—I gained assurance on two important points. 

A series of philological observations bearing on the phonetic 
value of the characters, single or compound, that could be read with 
certainty, and on the recurrence of particular inflectional endings, 
&e., convinced me that the language was an early Indian Prakrit, 
probably of a type closely akin to the dialect found in the legends 
of the oldest Khotan coins and in the Dutreuil de Rhins frag- 
ments. It became equally certain from a cursory comparison of 
the tablets that their text varied greatly both in extent and in 
matter, notwithstanding the brief initial formula with which most 
of them opened. It was only some days later that I succeeded in 
definitely deciphering the latter, when its wording—mahanuava 
maharaya lihati, ‘‘ His Highness the Maharaja writes [thus] : ”’— 
plainly established that these particular documents conveyed official 
orders. In the meantime, however, the previous observations 
together with others, such as the occurrence of numerical figures 


362 EXCAVATION OF KHAROSHTHI TABLETS [cwap. xxi. 


in the body of various tablets, sufficed to relieve me of the doubt 
that this unexpected wealth of epigraphical finds might after all 
resolve itself into numerous repetitions of identical religious texts 
so much in favour with the pious among all Buddhist communities. 

Though I could-not feel sure as yet in regard to the real nature 
of the contents, there was enough in the day’s discoveries to justify 
the conclusion that, with the Kharoshthi script transplanted from 
the extreme North-West of India, an early form of Indian speech 
had also been brought into popular use within the territories of 
ancient Khotan, probably from the same region. Such a fact 
could be accounted for only by historical events of far-reaching 
importance, which hitherto seemed wholly lost to our field of vision. 
The fascinating prospect of bringing them again to light made me 
look out with intense interest for such additional finds as the site 
might have in store. 

That my hopes in this direction had indeed been well founded was 
proved on the following morning, when I began the clearing of the 
southern wing of the ruined building. This adjoined at right 
angles the eastern end of the row of apartments excavated on the 
preceding day, and communicated with them by a door leading at 
first into a small room, only 10 ft. broad, which might have served 
as a kind of ante-chamber. A broad platform, built of plaster some 
8 ft. above the floor, and extending along most of the length of the 
room, looked as if intended to accommodate attendants, an exactly 
similar arrangement being observed in modern Turkestan houses. 
A well-preserved oblong tablet, which was the sole find made here, 
shows a handle at one end and thus closely resembles the Indian 
‘Takhta’ or wooden writing board to which I have already referred 
in connection with a discovery at Dandan-Uiliq. It also attracted 
my attention by exhibiting on both sides narrow vertical columns 
of writing which suggested either a metrical text or else lists. 

There was little time to bestow on individual finds when the clear- 
ing of the large apartment (N. iv.) immediately adjoining on the south 
had begun ; for from the shallow sand which covered it inscribed 
tablets of all forms and sizes soon began to crop up in unexpected 


cHAP. xxut.] MORE DOCUMENTS DISCOVERED 363 


numbers. It was a room 26 ft. square, with a raised platform of 
plaster running round three of its sides, while the remains of eight 
posts arranged in a square indicated a central area which probably 
had a raised roof to admit light and air, after the fashion. still 
observed in the halls of large Turkestan houses. As the protecting 
layer of sand was here only 2 ft. deep little more was left of the 
walls than rows of broken posts. The first inscribed tablets, too, 
which turned up in the sand close to the surface, had suffered 
greatly, their warped and split wood showing plainly the effect of 
the terrible summer heat to which they must have been exposed 
since the winds had carried away most of the sand that originally 
protected them. 

All the more delighted was I when I found that even the light 
remaining layer of sand had sufficed to preserve in a more or less 
legible condition the threescore of tablets that were found covering 
the platform along the southern side of the room. In some places, 
particularly near the centre of the wall, they were rising in small 
closely packed heaps above the plaster flooring, evidently just as 
left by the last occupants. But a considerable number of other 
inscribed tablets showed plainly by their position that they had 
been disturbed at some early period, apparently not long after the 
building had been deserted. For, in addition to some twenty 
tablets which were found scattered about in the loose sand covering 
the floor just in front of the south and east platforms, I unearthed 
over two dozen more from the southern part of the central area of 
the room marked by the posts already referred to. 

As the layer of these tablets was being removed it was seen that 
they had rested on a square piece of strong matting which, sup- 
ported by some light rafters also recovered, must have once formed 
a roof over the central area. The matting was found lying about a 
foot above the floor, thus showing the depth to which the invading 
sand had accumulated before the roof fell. The tablets found above 
the matting could only have got there subsequently. They may 
well have been thrown there when the abandoned dwelling was 
visited by some one anxious to search its remaining contents after 


364 EXCAVATION OF KHAROSHTHI TABLETS [cwap. xxu. 


the fashion of the modern ‘“‘ treasure-seekers.’’ The ancient records 
left behind by the last occupiers as so much ‘‘ waste-paper’” (to use 
an anachronism) were not likely to have been treated by him with 
more respect than Ibrahim had shown for the collection of tablets 
he so luckily unearthed in another part of the building. 

Below the matting I discovered some more tablets which owed 
their excellent state of preservation evidently to this safe covering, 
and then I came upon a small oval-shaped platform of plaster which, 
judging from the raised rim enclosing it, must have served as an 
open fireplace. But more interesting and more puzzling too than 
these structural details were the epigraphical finds. Their variety 
in respect of shape and size was truly remarkable. The wedge- 
shaped tablets familiar from the first day’s work reappeared again ; 
but in numbers they were far surpassed by inscribed boards of wood, 
to which, notwithstanding great variations in detail and propor- 
tions, the designation of oblong appears generally applicable. The 
use of those which were provided with a handle, usually rounded or 
pentagonal, and exhibited Kharoshthi writing on both sides, could 
readily be accounted for by their resemblance to the Indian 
Takhta (for a specimen, see p. 359). 

Other tablets attaining considerable dimensions in length, up to 
30 in., but comparatively narrow, curiously reminded me, by their 
appearance and the hole regularly found near one end, of the palm 
leaves which we know to have been used from the earliest times for 
manuscripts in India. Useful as this hole must have been for 
handling and storing these tablets of wood, it was nevertheless 
evident that it could not have been intended, as in the case of palm- 
leaf manuscripts, for a string to unite a series of them into a sort of 
‘Pothi.’ For not only were such tablets of entirely different sizes, 
but their great majority (close on thirty pieces) showed plainly by 
the irregular arrangement of their writing, in small columns and 
often running in different directions and concluding with numerical 
figures, by the appearance of various handwritings, erasures, 
bracketings, and similar indications, that they did not contain 
texts, or even connected communications, but in all probability 


CHAP. XXIII. ] DATED RECORDS 365 


memoranda, tabular statements, accounts and other casual 
records. 

Two series of oblong tablets largely represented among the finds 
of N. iv. (as this particular room was designated by me) showed far 
greater regularity and care in writing as well as workmanship, 
without being the less puzzling at the time of their discovery. 
These were tablets of rectangular shape, varying in length from 
4 to 16 inches, which soon attracted my attention: by the raised rim 
resembling a margin they invariably exhibited at the narrower sides 
of their single inscribed surface. The writing extending between 
these rims in five to thirteen lines always parallel to the longer 
side, ordinarily bore at the commencement a Kharoshthi numerical 
figure preceded by a word which I read before long as samvatsare, 
meaning in Sanskrit or Prakrit ‘“‘in the year.’’ In the text im- 
mediately following there appeared with equal regularity figures 
preceded by the words mase and divase, ‘‘in the . . . month” 
and ‘‘on the... day.’’ There could be no doubt that I held in 
my hands dated documents or records of some kind. Yet there was 
nothing in this to enlighten me as to the peculiar form of these 
tablets or the manner in which they might have been used. 

Busily occupied as I was in directing the excavation and clearing 
and numbering each find, I failed to realise at the time the close 
relation that existed between these tablets and another class of 
which the same ruined apartment furnished numerous specimens. 
They consisted of rectangular pieces of wood not exceeding 8 inches 
in length and 5 in width, and often much smaller, which on their 
flat reverse rarely had any writing, while the obverse in its raised 
centre invariably showed a square or oblong socket, manifestly 
intended for the insertion of a seal, together with a transversely 
written line or two of Kharoshthi characters. It was only later, 
when the remarkable rubbish-heap to be described below had 
yielded up its antiquarian treasures, that an explanation, as definite 
as it was simple, revealed itself of these curious seal-bearing tablets, 
and of the rims appearing on the wooden documents to which they had 
once been fitted as envelopes (for illustrations see pp. 366, 394, 395). 


( 


(SY}uey-ouTU 9TBOg) 


(Phx “"N wow.) GONM ANOG@ HLIM ‘NAHd NAGOOM LNAIONY 


CJTBy-9uo VTBOg) 
6T ‘AI °N) “LaTavi-waaNna ‘qooM NO LNaWAD0G IHLHSOUVHY 


366 


CHAP. XXIII. ] EROSIVE POWER OF WIND 367 


The structure which had so richly rewarded my first two days’ 
labours was too far decayed to permit of any certain conclusion as 
to its real character. The records which had escaped destruction, 
buried low on its floors, would, no doubt, furnish the clue, though I 
foresaw that their complete elucidation might be a labour of years. 
Whether, however, the building I had excavated had once served as 
the residence of some local official or perhaps as a monastic dwelling, 
it was clear that the writings found in it could only be the remains 
of a collection that had gradually accumulated and been left behind 
by chance when the place was abandoned. 

It was hence a fact of archeological significance that among all 
this wealth of written documents not a single scrap of actual paper 
was found. Nor could I discover a trace of paper among the 
miscellaneous rabbish which was brought to light in other rooms of 
the building. It was evident, therefore, that the use of this writing 
material, so much more convenient than wood, however old it may 
have been in China, had not spread in Eastern Turkestan at that 
early date which paleographic considerations indicated for my 
discoveries. Wooden tablets for writing purposes are indeed 
mentioned in very early Indian texts, particularly Buddhist ones ; 
and it is easy to realise that their use recommended itself in a 
country like Turkestan which produces neither palm-leayes nor 
birch-bark, the other ancient writing materials known in India. 
None the less was it a delightful surprise when, far away at this 
sand-buried site on the eastern limits of ancient Khotan territory, I 
found myself in possession of the first specimens ever discovered of 
Indian records on wood. 

All that day a breeze was blowing from the north-east, light yet 
sufficiently piercing in the prevailing cold and strong enough to 
drive before it a light spray of sand. As this passed over the 
ancient tablets laid out in rows as they were being recovered, it 
ever threatened to efface the pencil figures which I wrote with half- 
benumbed fingers on the often soft wood of their surface to mark 
the succession of the finds. I scarcely needed to be thus gently 
reminded of the erosive power of the desert winds. With the view 


368 EXCAVATION OF KHAROSHTHI TABLETS [cHap. xxii. 


of the ruined building before me as reproduced in the photograph 
taken from a sand-hill close by (p. 856), it was impossible to 
ignore the extent to which this and other structures of the site have 
suffered by erosion. The small plateau which the ruin is seen now 
to occupy, raised some 12 to 15 feet above the immediately sur- 
rounding ground, is unmistakably due to the erosion which proceeded 
around the building. While the strip of ground actually covered 
by the débris of the structure retains the original level, the open 
surface near by, consisting of mere loess, has been lowered more 
and more by the action of the wind. The drift-sand carried along 
over this portion of the area, which was once watered from the 
Niya River, is not sufficient at present to fill the depressions thus 
created or to protect the ruins. Broad ravines, from 15 to 80 feet 
deep, were to be seen in many places where the excavating force 
of the winds could freely assert itself in the bare loess soil. That 
part of the ground, too, still oceupied by ancient buildings, is being 
slowly cut into and undermined, just as if it were exposed to the 
erosive action of running water. The result finally produced by 
this slow process of destruction is aptly illustrated by the photo- 
graph just referred to ; for the heavy timber debris there seen on 
the slope of the foreground marks a part of the original building 
which has completely fallen, owing to the soil beneath having been 
eroded. Thus at more than one spot near my camp I found 
scattered fragments of beams and posts as the sole remains of ancient 
structures. Ultimately the wood, rendered brittle by long exposure, 
breaks up into splinters which the winds are able to carry away 
with ease, and only potsherds and small fragments of stone or 
metal remain to indicate the place of ancient habitations. 


SPECIMENS OF ARCHITECTURAL WOOD CARVING, FROM RUINED DWELLING-HOUSE (N. VIII.). 


CHAPTER: XXIV 
EXCAVATION OF ANCIENT RESIDENCES 


Tue danger to ruins involved in erosion was strikingly demon- 
strated by the condition of a large group of ancient dwellings which 
I found about half a mile to the north-west of the building first 
excavated, and which I next proceeded to examine. Here an area 
roughly measuring 500 square feet proved to be closely occupied 
by the timber débris of ancient houses. But as the dunes were 
only a few feet high, and the ground everywhere was greatly eroded, 
very little remained of the walls, and still less of the contents of 
the rooms. Even thus careful search led to interesting finds of 
inscribed tablets in a detached room immediately to the south 
of the best preserved of these houses, which is seen in the fore- 
ground of the photograph reproduced on p. 871. 

The sand covering the floor of the detached room (N. v.) lay only 


half a foot to one foot deep. Being thus poorly protected against 
25 369 


370 EXCAVATION OF ANCIENT RESIDENCES [cHapP. xxiv. 


atmospheric influences, the majority of the fifty odd tablets of wood 
we here picked up had withered and bleached until all trace of 
writing was lost. Others, though much warped and often perished 
on the surface, still show Kharoshthi writing. Oblong tablets of 
considerable length and irregular shape are particularly frequent 
among these finds, and, so far as legible, usually exhibit matter in 
narrow, closely-written columns. The lists of names and items of 
accounts which seem to be contained in them, again point to 
records kept in some office. The extent of the clerical labour 
once carried on here could be measured by the size of these tablets, 
one piece, unfortunately entirely bleached, attaining the incon- 
venient dimensions of 7 feet 6 inches in length, with a width of 
43 inches. 

The slight depth of the sand covering this area permitted me to 
clear in the course of two days a considerable number of small 
ruined houses. They served to acquaint me with the typical 
arrangement of the rooms, cattle-sheds, &c., composing these 
homesteads, though, owing to the far-advanced decay, finds of 
interest were scarce. Among these I may mention an ancient 
ice-pit in the outhouse of a modest dwelling-place on the western 
edge of the area. Here in a small room my labourers came upon 
two unhewn trunks of Toghrak, lying close together and parallel. 
Abdullah, my guide from Keriya, at once suggested that we had 
found a ‘ Muz-khana,’ or ice store-room, trunks being used now in 
exactly the same way to keep the ice from touching the ground. 
The thick bed of ancient poplar leaves, which were soon brought to 
light in the space of about 2 feet between the trunks, proved the 
correctness of Abdullah’s conjecture, heaps of such leaves being 
still the usual covering for the ice which well-to-do villagers store 
for use in the summer season. | 

On -the 30th of January my Darogha returned safely from his 
reconnaissance into the desert. For about three marches westwards 
he had found the sands practicable, and the supply of fuel yielded 
by occasional patches of tamarisk and Kumush growth sufficient. 
This showed that the short route to the Keriya River could even- 


Le 


‘N SNIONU 


410 


dNowo 


LY 


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SASQNOH LNAIONY 


10 SNIVWUY 


371 


372 EXCAVATION OF ANCIENT RESIDENCES [cuap. xxIv. 


tually be taken by us, even if the snow, which Ibrahim Akhun 
reported to be about a span deep there, should have completely 
melted. There were already signs that the rigour of the desert 
winter could not be depended upon to help us for many weeks 
longer. The minimum temperature on the 80th of January was 
still —4° Fahr., but at midday the thermometer rose to 42° Fahr. in 
the shade. I had now got so accustomed to the cold as to find 
26° Fahr. quite a comfortable temperature for writing, and while 
walking that day to some ruins yet to be explored, I felt it almost 
too warm. The thought of what life in the desert would be like 
after March had once passed was in itself a sufficient inducement 
to hurry on work. 

The object of my next excavations was the remains of two large 
dwelling-houses which I had passed on my first arrival, about two 
miles to the south of the Stupa. ‘Their position on isolated 
terrace-like banks of loess, due to erosion of the neighbouring 
soil, and the rows of fallen poplars of great size marking ancient 
gardens and avenues close by, made these ruins particularly 
prominent. The one to the east, N. III. (see photograph, p. 354), 
which, judging from the size and number of the apartments, must 
have been the residence of a man of position, was far deeper in the 
sand than any of the buildings previously examined, and conse- 
quently proved much better preserved. Its excavation occupied my 
band of labourers for fully four days, though their numbers had 
by this time been strengthened by every able-bodied man from 
Imam Jafar Sadik, a reinforcement which I summoned in haste as 
soon as the first inspection had shown me the great extent and 
importance of the site. 

The most striking feature of this building was the large central 
apartment, which measured 40 by 26 feet, and probably served as a 
kind of reception-hall. Four massive beams of poplar wood, full 
40 feet long, once supported the roof. The corbel, which was 
fixed beneath the two central beams, was also a fine piece of wood, 
nearly 8 feet long and 10 inches in thickness, showing bold 
mouldings. The post, which once carried this corbel, had fallen 


CHAP. XXIV. | AN OLD RECEPTION-HALL 373 


long ago; yet when the excavation began the beams were still in 
place, resting on the deep sand that had meanwhile filled the hall. 
As the work of clearing proceeded, the stuccoed walls revealed 
remains of a carefully executed decoration in fresco. This proved 
to consist of horizontal bands, painted in dark red and black, on a 
plaster ground of creamy white. The broad upper band contained 
a scroll ornament of large lotus flowers ; below it extended a narrow 
band in black with leaves like those of a fern painted in white, 


PORTION OF ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE (N. III), BEFORE EXCAVATION. 


and from this again descended elegant festoons of budding 
lotuses. 

To prop up the walls and prevent their falling in during 
excavation was no easy task. The photograph on p. 375 shows 
part of the north wall with a side door leading from the hall into 
a sort of ante-room. On the extreme left of the photograph is 
seen the top of the single wooden leaf which once closed another 
small door connecting the ante-room with an apartment westwards. 


374. EXCAVATION OF ANCIENT RESIDENCES [cHapP. xxtVv. 


This leaf was found in perfect preservation and still on its hinges, 
leaning against the wall, just as when it had been last opened. 

Another curious memento of life long departed were the remains 
of embers I found on the small raised platform of plaster occupying 
the floor in the centre of the hall, and evidently once serving for 
the reception of an open fire. 

The hall had been ‘completely cleared by the last dwellers or 
visitors of any articles it may have contained. But the smaller 
rooms adjoining it to the north furnished a very interesting series 
of relics, illustrating the manufactures and arts of the period. 
The specimens of textile industry were particularly numerous. 
Besides pieces of felt and coloured cotton cloth, not unlike the 
modern ‘Kham’ of the country, there turned up portions of a 
delicately worked rug, resembling in make an Indian * Durie,’ 
and showing elaborate geometrical patterns and harmoniously 
blended colours which only wanted a little brushing to reappear 
in their original brilliancy. The coloured reproduction of part of 
this rug, given in a plate of my ‘Preliminary Report,” will show 
the interest which these finds possess for the history of Central- 
Asian handicrafts. Small pieces of carved ivory, including an 
ivory-tipped baton, attested the skill of the ancient turner. 

A number of small wooden tablets with Kharoshthi writing, wedge- 
shaped, or else having the appearance of labels, tuned up in the 
refuse that covered the floor of an outer apartment, and what seems 
to have been once the kitchen. In the kitchen there was, just as 
in modern Turkestan houses, a mud platform to hold the water- 
jars and other stores, also a large wooden trough. More curious 
were the finds in a small closet-like apartment, which evidently 
served as a storage room. There I found a bow of tamarisk wood, 
still crisp and capable of use; carefully turned shafts of light 
poplar wood, broken, yet still over six feet long, which must have 
once served for spears; a section of a shield of wood (willow) 
about 3 feet 6 inches high; spindles and other small household 
implements, all of wood, including a stout walking-stick of apple- 
wood that I found to come in very handy for use. 


“NOILVAVOXH DNIVAC ‘(+111 ‘N) ASQOOH-PNITTAMG LNAIONY 40 'TIVH ‘IVY 


ING) fO TIVM HIMON 


376 EXCAVATION OF ANCIENT RESIDENCES [cuap. xxiv. 


Among the articles of ornamental wood-carving found in the 
building none can compare in point of artistic interest with the 
ancient chair reproduced below. Its pieces, though disjointed, 
lay close together on the floor of one of the outer rooms and 
could easily be fitted together. The excellent preservation of 
the elaborate carvings was all the more surprising as progressive 


Lo Pe ¥ 
Se 
ANCIENT WOODEN CHAIR FROM RUINED DWELLING-HOUSE (N. Iil.). 
(Scale one-eighth.) ‘ 


erosion had left scarcely any of the sand which no doubt previously 
covered and protected them. The decorative motives shown in 
these carvings are familiar to us from relievo sculpture that once 
adorned the Buddhist monasteries of Yusufzai and Swat, the 
ancient Gandhara. I was glad to note at the time how closely the 
date thus indicated agreed with the chronological evidence deducible 


CHAP, XXIV.] ANTIQUE FURNITURE 377 


from the Kharoshthi writing of the tablets. My men were duly 
impressed by the fine appearance of this ancient piece of art 
furniture when it was set up before their wondering eyes. 

The large size of the house, which covered an area nearly 
100 feet long by 80 in width, also helped to suggest that 
this was the residence of a man of means, and possibly in 
authority. So my labourers promptly christened the place as 
the ‘Yamen.’ It is true they did not find in it the hoped-for 
horseshoes of silver, but several Chinese copper coins were picked 
up from the sand in its immediate vicinity. The fact that these 
coins, as well as all subsequent numismatic finds on the site, 
belonged to issues of the second Han dynasty, greatly strengthened 
my reliance on the palwographic evidence of the tablets. 

Equally curious results rewarded the clearing of another large 
dwelling-house, N. IV., some three hundred yards to the south- 
west, which occupied us during the 4th and 5th of February. 
The plan of this house and of the garden adjoining it, repro- 
duced on p. 380, will help to illustrate the internal arrangement of 
these ancient residences. It strangely recalled the disposition of 
rooms, &¢., I had observed in modern Khotan dwelling-places 
of some pretensions. Ina room, which seems to have served as 
an office, there were found, besides a number of inscribed tablets of 
varying shape, apparently orders and memoranda, several tablets 
that had never been used, blank stationery left behind by the last 
occupants ; also writing pens of tamarisk wood; eating-sticks of 
wood like those still used by the Chinese; and a large sleeping- 
mat or hammock made of tamarisk rushes. In the long, narrow 
passage that traverses this house I came upon the well-preserved 
upper part of a guitar, resembling the ‘ Rabab’ still in popular use 
throughout Turkestan, and retaining bits of the ancient string, as 
well as upon more samples of carpet materials. 

But even more interesting were the remains of an elaborately 
decorated wooden arm-chair which were also successively recovered 
there. The legs represent standing lions, in evident imitation 
of the Indian ‘ Simhasana’ (‘‘lion-seat’’), and retain in part 


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‘AI ‘N PDNITITHMG GANIOU WOU NINIVN “ODM ‘SLNAIETAINI @1OHASAOH INGIONY 


qa Vv 


378 


CHAP. xxty.] AN ANCIENT GARDEN 379 


their original colouring in red and black. The arm-rests are 
formed by a pair of well-carved monsters, male and female. The 
heads and busts are shown as human, the parts from the waist 
downwards apparently birdlike, while the legs are those of a horse 
with strongly-marked hoofs. The terra-cotta ground colour is well 
preserved, and over it appear traces of black and dark blue paint 
marking the plumage and hoofs. Have we to recognise in these 
strange creatures a reminiscence of the Kimnaras of Indian mytho- 
logy, or of a still more distant hybrid, the Centaurs of Greece ? 

A very curious feature of this ruin was the clearness with which 
the arrangement of the adjoining garden could be traced. The 
trunks of the poplars, which still rise 8 to 10 feet from the 
original surface, and are thus clearly visible above the drift-sand, 
are grouped in the same little squares and enclosing rectangular 
avenues which can be seen in every well-kept ‘ Bostan’ from 
Kashgar to Keriya. The trees were planted at regular distances, 
which are marked on my plan. The hedgerow or rush fence 
enclosing the garden was also mostly intact, though covered: in 
parts by the sand. It was with a strange feeling, obliterating 
almost the sense of time, that I walked between two parallel 
fences of rushes that still form a little country lane just as over 
1,600 years ago. The wind had swept the ground between them 
clear at various places, thus displaying the pottery fragments, bits 
of charcoal, and decayed foliage on which the last inhabitants 
must have trodden. Searching at the bottom of the fences my 
antique walking-stick disclosed the rustling dead leaves of poplars 
and fruit trees, perhaps the same that still raised their shrivelled 
trunks in scattered groups near by. Among these withered relics 
of ancient orchards, which I observed here as at some other points 
of the site, my diggers had no difficulty in distinguishing various 
fruit trees, such as the peach, plum, apricot, mulberry, the wood of 
which they knew from their own homes. 

There might have been during those days a temptation for me 
to forget altogether my living surroundings through the anti- 
quarian fascination of the dead past. It was, perhaps, in order to 


M.A.STEIN: FECIT. 


ANCIENT 


POPLAR AVENUE 


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PLAN OF 
ANCIENT DWELLING-HOUSE . 
Nov. 


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Plaster Wall 0 —_—_ 

ditto ruined... xyaemen 
Rush Wall ............secs 

ditto ditto... sceses: 
Fences. Wee Te 

ditto 
Poplar Tree 
Garden Tree... 
Raised Platform... f 
Timber Debris... A 


as 7 FH. ANDREWS: DEL. 


CHAP. XXIV. | TROUBLESOME FOLLOWERS 381 


provide against any such eventuality that my faithful myrmidons 
from Kashgar took the opportunity to attract my attention to their 
several human failings and consequent mutual bickerings. The 
incidents which ,arose thereby have their humorous interest when 
looked back upon; but at the time, I must own, I should have 
gladly done without them. It was with Niaz Akhun, my Chinese 
interpreter, that these troubles began. Knowing how little dis- 
posed he was to make himself useful during work in the desert, or 
to bear patiently with its inherent hardships, I had left him behind 
in charge of the ponies which were to await our return at 
Nurullah’s, the shepherd’s, huts beyond Imam Jafar Sadik. 
There were no Chinese there to gamble with, and, in fact, 
scarcely any people to fight or to bully. So I thought my trouble- 
some follower fairly out of the reach of mischief. Reports, however, 
which began to arrive with the convoys bringing ice, and with the 
men ordered up from the shrine as reinforcements, soon convinced 
me that I had underrated Niaz Akhun’s truculent propensities. 
That he was supplementing the ample rations left for him by 
requisitions of whatever the resources of the Sheikhs of the shrine 
could supply in the way of eatables would scarcely have brought 
matters to a crisis. But his amorous demands on the attentions 
of the womenfolk living at the Mazar grew in excess of what even 
the hospitality and easy morals of these parts would tolerate. 
The result was the despatch to me in the desert of a pitiful 
petition praying for the holy settlement to be speedily relieved 
of the infliction represented by my semi-Chinese attendant. There 
was only too good reason to believe in the substantial truth of the 
complaints, and as the only safe course was to keep Niaz Akhun 
under my own eye, I sent peremptory orders for him to give over 
charge of the animals to another of my men, and to join camp at 
once. It was a truly comic sight when the sinner arrived, weary 
with the two days’ tramp through the sand to which he was little 
accustomed, yet in his genuine dejection acting with consummate 
skill the part of injured innocence. According to his own story, 
he was the victim of a wicked conspiracy between some of his 


382 EXCAVATION OF ANCIENT RESIDENCES [cuHap. xxiv. 


enemies among my own men and the shameless mendicants at the 
shrine, &e. In order to make his appeal for justice still more 
impressive he had donned over his comfortable coat white rags to 
indicate mourning. He pretended to have just received news of 
the death of his mother, far away at Aksu, but he failed to explain 
how the sad intelligence could have arrived so opportunely. At 
first he offered to commit suicide in order to clear his reputation, 
and to rid me of further trouble on his account. Gradually, how- 
ever, he settled down to a more resigned behaviour, and I began 
to hope that he would submit with good grace to the privations of 
desert life, the worst punishment I could inflict, when.on the next 
day the storm broke. 

It pleased Niaz Akhun to attribute his ignominious recall from 
the fleshpots of the Mazar to the enmity of Hassan Akhun, one of 
my young camel-men. So he promptly denounced the latter to me 
as having secreted an antique gold ring which he had picked up 
near one of the ruined houses, against my standing order that all 
chance finds were to be reported, thus giving me an opportunity to 
acquire them for an adequate compensation. When Hassan Akhun 
arrived with the next ice transport, he readily delivered thé ring, 
which proved to be of brass, and took the reward I offered for it. 
But the incident stirred up still more the spite felt by my Muham- 
madan followers against Niaz Akhun, so that on returning to camp 
in the evening he was attacked in open fight. by the pugnacious 
little camel-man. The encounter might have been as amusing to 
watch as that other heroic fight described by Horace in his journey 
to Brundisium, could I only have trusted the temper and balance of 
mind of my Chinese interpreter. Half-maddened by his disgrace 
and the taunts of the other men, he seemed quite prepared to give 
a tragic turn to the affair by the use of his knife, when I managed 
to separate the combatants, not without vigorous application of the 
antique walking-stick I happened to have in hand. Just as I had 
succeeded in this, with the help of Ram Singh, Sadak Akhun, the’ 
cook, came rushing up in wild excitement, brandishing the sword 
which he prided himself upon carrying about as an old ‘ Dakchi’ 


CHAP. XXIV. | AFFRAY IN DESERT CAMP 383 


of the British Agency at Kashgar. I thought at the time that he 
might have run ‘‘ amuck”’; for Sadak Akhun’s conduct had grown 
very queer for weeks past under the baneful influence of the 
‘Charas’ drug to which he was addicted, and of which he took 
increasing quantities as the hardships of our winter campaign 
continued. Luckily his brain had not given way, as his frantic 
behaviour might have made one believe. So while violently pro- 
testing his wish to avenge his misery as well as Islam (!) on the 
renegade Niaz, he at last allowed himself to be disarmed and led 
away. The interval during which my attention had been diverted 
by Sadak Akhun’s appearance on the scene, was promptly utilised 
by Niaz for a dramatic attempt at suicide. With astonishing 
rapidity he had loosened his waistband, and drawing it tightly 
round and round his neck, was doing his best to strangle himself 
in a fit of frenzied energy. His face was getting to bear a strange 
look by the time we succeeded in loosening the convulsive grip of 
his hands, and the utter exhaustion which then overcame him 
convinced me that it was not a mere exhibition of mimic power to 
which he had treated us. 

It was evident that, to prevent fresh affrays with possibly more 
serious results, Niaz had to be kept away from the rest of my 
Muhammadans. So I was glad that my two Hindu followers, Ram 
Singh and Jasvant Singh, were ready to share their camp-fire with 
him and in a general way to keep an eye on him. Hassan Akhun, 
for his unwarranted attack, was sentenced to a number of stripes, 
which Ibrahim, my excellent Darogha from Keriya, administered 
next morning with an arm practised in such functions and which 
had a very salutary effect upon the young offender. There remained 
only Sadak Akhun to worry me by mad fits of despondency and 
sneaking attempts at insubordination. To his repeated demands 
for discharge I could not possibly consent; for like the rest of my 
men he had been expressly engaged for the whole of the journey, 
and I was not prepared, if I could help it, to go without European 
food which he alone in camp knew how to cook. To the rest of 
my men he would wildly talk of running away at night; but the 


384 EXCAVATION OF ANCIENT RESIDENCES [cnap. xxiv. 


fear of losing his way and still more the knowledge that I could 
easily get him stopped at Keriya or Khotan and detained in the 
Amban’s Yamen until my return, sufficed to prevent the execution 
of such foolish plans. All the same I thought I had reason to 
compliment myself on successful management when I brought 
Sadak Akhun in the end safely back to Kashgar. Restored to 
the pleasures of Bazar life, with substantial accumulations of pay 
to spend upon his elegant person, he was then wont to attribute the 
troubles he had caused, not to his own innate fickleness and the 
effects of the ‘ Charas’ habit, but to the ‘ Jins’ or evil spirits of 
the sand-buried sites who had gained possession of his mind 
during the long nights in the desert. May he keep clear of them 
thereafter ! 


% 
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SS Mele Sita i Pea ets AMINE VAP ee 


CLAY IMPRESSIONS OF CLASSICAL SEALS, FROM KHAROSHTHI TABLETS. 


CHAPTER XXV 
DISCOVERIES IN AN ANTIQUE RUBBISH HEAP 


Tun excavations previously described plainly showed me that the 
ancient houses of this site had been cleared by their last in- 
habitants, or soon after their departure, of everything possessing 
intrinsic value. It was evident that I must base my hopes for 
further archeological finds mainly on any rubbish remains which 
might have been left behind. These hopes received gratifying 
confirmation in the course of a reconnaissance to ruins reported 
north of my camp. I sighted on that occasion over half-a-dozen 
groups of old structures scattered over an area of about three and a 
half miles from south to north and more than two miles across. In 
one ruin, greatly decayed and in no way attracting special attention, 
[ had’come upon a number of bleached tablets lying exposed, and a 
little digging had within half an hour brought to light nearly thirty 
inscribed pieces. Among them there were two novelties which, 
though small in size, could not fail to arouse my utmost interest. 
One was a fragment of a narrow piece of wood showing Chinese 
characters; the other a small strip of well-prepared leather, also 
fragmentary, with a line of Kharoshthi characters recording a date. 


These finds clearly betokened a rich deposit, and as the ruin in 
26 . 385 


386 _ AN ANTIQUE RUBBISH HEAP [CHAP. XXV. 


question lay nearly two miles to the north, I decided to move my 
camp there. 

While my men were busy on the morning of February 6th 
effecting the shift, I found time to make a close examination 
of the little Stupa below which my camp had stood. At 
first sight it appeared that the small hemispherical dome about 
7 feet high rose on a single base 13 feet 6 inches square 


‘ 


RUINED STUPA, AT ANCIENT SITE BEYOND IMAM JAFAR SADIK. 


and 6 feet 6 inches high. But observations as to the original 
eround leyel made me suspect that the structure now visible above 
the sand on the southern slope of a large tamarisk-covered sand-cone 
did not represent the whole of the Stupa. And in fact, on clearing 
the sand heaped up on the east face by the prevailing winds, I came 
upon a second base below. It was also square, projecting on each 
side 8 feet beyond the upper base and 6 feet high. The whole of 


CHAP. xxv.| ANCIENT “ WASTE-PAPER” DEPOSITS 387 


the Stupa thus rose to a height of about 20 feet. I was much 
interested to note how closely the arrangement and proportions of 
the dome and its bases agreed with that observed in the ruined 
Stupas of Khanui, Moji, and Pialma. The size of the bricks too 
(circ. 22 by 17 by 4 inches) proved nearly the same as in those struc- 
tures. Nor was the shaft wanting in the centre of the Stupa dome. 
It was only 1 foot square and had been laid open from the west by 
a cutting into the brickwork. That treasure-seekers had been at 
work was shown also by two large holes excavated in the upper 
base. What relic deposit there once was in this modest ‘‘ memorial 
tower,’ as Hiuen-Tsiang would have called it, must have been 
abstracted long ago. 

Promising as the finds were which my previous ‘‘ prospecting ”’ 
had yielded, I little anticipated how extraordinary rich a mine of 
ancient records I had struck in the ruin I proceeded to excavate. 
On the surface there was nothing to suggest the wealth of relics 
contained within the half-broken walls of the room, 23 by 18 feet 
large, which once formed the western end of a modest dwelling- 
place. But when systematic excavation, begun at the north-western 
corner of the room, revealed layer upon layer of wooden tablets 
mixed, up with refuse of all sorts, the truth soon dawned upon me. 
I had struck an ancient rubbish heap formed by the accumulations 
of many years, and containing also what, with an anachronism, we 
may fitly call the *‘ waste-paper ”’ deposits of that early time. 

It was not sand from which I extracted tablet after tablet, but a 
consolidated mass of refuse lying fully 4 feet above the original 
floor, as seen in the photograph reproduced p. 889. All the docu- 
ments on wood, of which I recovered in the end more than two 
hundred, were found scattered among layers of broken pottery, 
straw, rags of felt and various woven fabrics, pieces of leather, and 
other rubbish. It was evident that the consistency which these 
varied remains had acquired in the course of centuries had more 
than anything else helped to protect them against the erosive action 
of the winds, from which the other parts of this ruin had suffered 
considerably. Thus it is mainly to the unsavoury associa- 


388 AN ANTIQUE RUBBISH HEAP [CHAP. XXV. 


tions of the dustbin that we must ascribe the remarkable state 
of preservation shown by the great mass of these precious 
records. 

I had ample occasion to console myself with this thought while 
engaged in the laborious task of clearing this room (N. xv.). As 
soon as I had realised the peculiar character of its deposits it 
became a matter of importance to keep accurate record of the 
relative position in which each object turned up. This would 


RUINED DWELLING-PLACE, CONTAINING ANCIENT RUBBISH HEAP (N. eve) SEEN FROM 
SOUTH-EAST. 


thereafter help to ascertain the chronological order, and possibly 
the internal connection of the various documents. Accordingly, 
every inscribed piece had to be carefully tabulated before it was 
removed and cleaned, no easy task with fingers half benumbed by 
cold and in the dust which a fresh north-east breeze raised from 
the dug-up refuse heap. For three long working days I had to 
inhale its odours, still pungent after so many centuries, and to 
swallow in liberal doses antique microbes luckily now dead. But 


‘NOILVAVOXH WFO ASUNOD NI *(*AX 


‘N) avaH 


HSiIaddaw 


LNAIONY 


389 


390 AN ANTIQUE RUBBISH HEAP [CHAP. XXV. 


in the full enjoyment of my great antiquarian haul I did not think 
of these little discomforts. 

The diversity in form and material of the documents which came 
to light from amidst all this ancient litter and dirt, was not less 
remarkable than their good preservation. The first few hours’ 
work was rewarded by the discovery of complete Kharoshthi 
documents on leather. The oblong sheets of carefully prepared 


ANCIENT KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON 
LEATHER (N. Xv. 310). 


(Seale one-half.) 


A Unfolded. B In original folded state. 


smooth sheepskin, of which altogether two dozen came to light 
here, showed different sizes, up to 15 inches in length. They 
were invariably found folded up into neat little rolls, but could be 
opened out in most cases without serious difficulty. The Kha- 
roshthi text, which covers the inner surface, is usually written in 
a neat clerical hand, and its black ink has retained a remarkable 
freshness. At the head of each document I was now able to read 


CHAP. XXvV. | DOCUMENTS ON LEATHER 391 


with certainty the introductory formula previously seen less clearly 
on many of the wedge-shaped tablets: Mahanuava imaharaya 
lihati, “‘ His Highness the Maharaja orders in writing.” There 
could be no further doubt that these were official documents. Most 
of them, I could see, were dated, but only by month and day, while 
the single lines on the otherwise blank reverses were manifestly 
addresses. In them I thonght I could recognise two personal 
names or titles appearing again and again. But who were the 
recipients of these and so many other documents, the adminis- 
trative officers or simply the clerks of this ancient  settle- 
ment ? 

Quite apart from their contents, these documents have a special 
interest as the first specimens as yet discovered of leather used 
for writing purposes among a population of Indian language and 
culture. Whatever the religious objections may have been, it is 
evident that in practice they had no more weight with the pious 
Buddhists of this region than with the orthodox Brahmans of 
Kashmir, who for centuries back have used leather bindings for 
their cherished Sanskrit codices. The finish given to the leather 
of those ancient documents indicates extensive practice in the 
preparation of the material. Small pieces of blank leather of 
this kind, unmistakably shreds left after the cutting of full-sized 
sheets and subsequently swept out of the office room, turned up 
plentifully among the rubbish. The discovery of an ancient pen 
made of tamarisk wood (see p. 366), in the same refuse heap, 
helps us still better to realise the conditions of clerical work in 
that period. The bone knob of the pen had probably served as a 
burnisher. 

But interesting as these details were, they could not compare in 
importance with the information yielded by the far more numerous 
finds of. Kharoshthi tablets. Many of those unearthed from N. xv. 
were in excellent preservation and retained intact the original clay 
seals and strings with which they were fastened. There could be 
no doubt as to wood having been the general writing material, and 
it was hence particularly fortunate that I was thus enabled defi- 


392 AN ANTIQUE RUBBISH HEAP  [cwap xxv. 


nitely to ascertain all technicalities connected with its use. The 
wedge-shaped tablets, which seem to have been in favour for short 
communications, invariably consisted of pairs of pieces fitted exactly 
to match each other in size, as seen in the specimen reproduced 
below. One end of the double tablet thus formed was cut off 
square; the other runs out into a point near which a string-hole is 


KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON DOUBLE WOODEN TABLET (N. Xv. 137). 
(Scale one-third.) 


A Obverse of covering tablet with seal. 'B Reverse of under-tablet. C Obverse of under-tablet. 


drilled through both pieces. The text occupies the smooth obverse 
of the under-tablet and is protected by the upper or covering tablet, 
which rests on it and serves as a kind of envelope. If the length 
of the communication required it, the writing was continued on the 
reverse of the covering tablet. The wood of the latter shows greater 
thickness towards the square end, and in this raised portion of the 


cHap. xxv.| FASTENING OF ANCIENT ENVELOPES 393 


outside surface a square socket was neatly cut, intended for the 
reception of a clay seal. A string of hemp was passed in a cleverly 
devised fashion through the string-hole and then drawn tightly over 
both tablets near the square or right end. Grooves communicating 
with the seal socket held the string in regular cross-folds. The 
socket was then filled with clay, covering these folds of the string. 
When once the seal of the sender had been impressed into the clay, 
it became impossible to separate the pair of tablets without either 
breaking the seal impression or cutting the string. 


Diagram of wedge-shaped double tablet, showing obverse of covering tablet, with string-hole (A) 
and string fastened in seal socket (B). 


Diagram of wedge-shaped double tablet, showing reverse of under-tablet, with string-hole (A) and 
folds of string held by grooves (B), 


The ingenious arrangement here briefly described, which the 
accompanying diagrams of Mr. F. H. Andrews’ drawing will help to 
illustrate, rendered the communication written on the inner sides 
of the two tablets absolutely safe against unauthorised inspection. 
If the recipient desired to preserve the sealing and also retain .a 
convenient fastening for the two tablets after having acquainted 
himself with the contents—an obvious advantage when such letters 
had to be kept for record—he had only to cut the string near the 


394 AN ANTIQUE RUBBISH HEAP [CHAP. XXV. 


string-hole. The under-tablet could then easily be slid out from. 
the folds of string running beneath the seal, and after being read be 
passed back again into its original position, just as we can do this 
now, after so many centuries, in the case of the double tablet 
reproduced on p. 892. Usually to the right of the seal on the 
obverse of the covering tablet there appears the name of the 
addressee, while entries in a different hand, traceable in some 
instances on the reverse of the under-tablet, may possibly represent 
‘* docket’ notes by the official who received the communication. 


’ 


Detached seal-socket 
(N. xv. 133), 


(Scale one half.) 


Covering tablet of oblong Kharoshthi Covering tablet of Kharoshthi 
document (N. xv. 167), showing document (N. xv. 3880), 
double seal. showing seal with Eros. 

(Scale one-half.) ; (Scale one-half.) 


Scarcely less ingenious is the method of fastening which the 
finds of N. xv. prove to have been used for the oblong tablets. 
From a number of double tablets of that shape which I recovered 
here practically intact, it became clear that the under-tablet was in 
this case provided with a raised rim on either of the shorter sides. 
Between these rims fitted exactly a covering tablet, the obverse of 
which, in its raised centre, had a square or oblong socket for the 
reception of a clay seal. Here too a string passed transversely 


KHAROSHTHI DOCUMENT ON DOUBLE OBLONG TABLET (N. Xv. 166). 


‘(Seale two-thirds.) 
A Double tablet unopened. B Reverse of covering tablet. C Obverse of under-tablet. 


395 


396 AN ANTIQUE RUBBISH HEAP [CHAP. XXV. 


over both tablets and secured below the seal effectually prevented 
any unauthorised opening and reading of the document written on 
the inner sides of the two tablets. The accompanying plate 
(p. 895) shows such a double tablet which was found with the 
string broken but otherwise intact, both before and after its 
opening. ‘‘ Enyelopes”’ of oblong double tablets, the corresponding 
under-tablets of which have not been found or identified, are seen 
on p. 394. There also a wooden seal-socket found detached, with 
its clay seal-impression still intact, has been reproduced. 

I cannot attempt, from want of space and of adequate illustra- 
tions, even briefly to indicate here all the curious discoveries made 
in connection with this ancient stationery in wood. But some notice 


FiMAN ORS 


SEAL-IMPRESSIONS IN CLAY FROM KHAROSHTHI TABLETS, 


must be accorded to that remarkable series of clay seal-impres- 
sions which were found still intact on a number of tablets and some 
of which can be presented here from well-executed drawings of my 
friend Mr. F. H. Andrews (see below and p. 385). From an 
historical point of view they claim exceptional interest, for they 
have furnished convincing evidence of the way in which the influence 
of classical Western art asserted itself even in distant Khotan. It 
was ‘a delightful surprise when, on cleaning the first intact seal 
impression that turned up, I recognised in it the figure of Pallas 
Athene, with egis and thunder-bolt, treated in an archaic fashion. 
This particular seal (seen though not so distinctly as elsewhere 
on the covering tablet reproduced on p. 395) was found there- 


cHaP. xxv.| CLASSICAL SEAL-IMPRESSIONS 397 


after to recur frequently, and probably belonged to an official 
who was directly connected with the administration of the ancient 
settlement. Another and larger seal (seen in the reproduction 
of the covering tablet C, p. 394, also in the headpiece of this 
chapter) shows a well-modelled naked figure of pure classical out- 
line, perhaps a seated Eros. Another Athene, a standing Eros, 
and probably Heracles, are also to be found among the Greek 
deities represented. On other seals, again, there appear portrait 
heads of men and women showing classical modelling, though 
barbarian features, &c. 

Just as in the case of the engraved stones of similar make found 
in the débris layers of Yotkan, it is impossible to make sure which 
of these seals were actually engraved in Khotan territory and which 
were imported from the West or other parts of Asia reached by 
classical art. But though we have yet to learn the exact functions 
or place of residence of those who once used the seals, there can be 
no reasonable doubt that the documents bearing their impressions 
originated in the vicinity of the ancient site or at least within the 
borders of the Khotan kingdom. As the date, too, of the docu- 
ments can, as we shall see, be fixed with fair accuracy, these seal- 
impressions are to us far more valuable than if chance had preserved 
the original seals. The vista thus opened out to us is one of far- 
reaching historical interest. We already knew that classical art 
had established itself in Bactria and on the north-west frontier of 
India. But there was little to prepare us for such tangible proofs 
of the fact that it had penetrated so much further to the east, half- 
way between Western Europe and Peking. As if to symbolise this 
strange mixture of influences from the Far West and the Far East, 
the covering tablet reproduced in Fig. A, p. 894, presents to us a seal 
with Chinese lapidary characters in juxtaposition with one showing 
a portrait head unmistakably cut after Western models. 


REMAINS OF ANCIENT TREES NEAR SAND-BURIED DWELLING-PLACE (N. VIItI.). 


CHAPTER XXVI 


DECIPHERMENT OF ANCIENT DOCUMENTS ON WOOD AND 
LEATHER 


Tue historical importance attaching to the records themselves was 
ever vividly before my mind, and in each fresh Kharoshthi document 
which this precious refuse-heap continued to yield up I had reason 
to welcome additional help towards the study of both script and 
contents. But from the first I recognised that the decipherment 
of this wealth of materials would require much time and patient 
labour. The many exacting tasks which have claimed my attention 
since my return have left me no leisure to supplement the cursory 
examination I was able to make at the time of discovery and in the 
rare moments of rest on my subsequent travels. Fortunately, 
however, my friend Mr. E. J. Rapson, of the British Museum, 
to whose care I had for a time to entrust the whole of my 


antiquarian collections, readily agreed to charge isimself with the 
398 


OHAP. xxv1.| CONTENTS OF KHAROSHTHI RECORDS 399 


study of all epigraphical finds in Kharoshthi. The painstaking 
researches concerning them which he has carried on for the 
past year with scholarly zeal and acumen are not likely to be 
concluded for a long time. But they have advanced sufficiently 
to make it possible for me, with his permission, to indicate in 
broad outlines certain main results and some of the more curious 
details. 

It is a source of gratification to me that the conclusions I first 
arrived at regarding the language and general character of these 
documents have been fully confirmed by Mr. Rapson’s labours. 
From his exact analysis of a considerable number of Kharoshthi 
documents on wood and leather, it can now be asserted with 
certainty that the language is an early Indian Prakrit, possessing a 
large admixture of Sanskrit terms. The latter are particularly 
prevalent in the introductory and other formal parts of the letters 
and reports, that is, exactly where the epistolary custom of modern 
Indian vernaculars has large recourse to phrases of the classical 
language. As regards the great mass of the documents there can 
be no doubt that they contain, as surmised by me from the first, 
official correspondence of various kinds. Reports and orders to 
local officials on matters of administration and police, complaints, 
summonses, safe-conducts, and similar communications seem to 
constitute the bulk of the documents. Others, again, may prove 
to be records of payments or requisitions, agreements, bonds, and 
the like. Accounts, lists of labourers, &c., are probably the con- 
tents of the mass of miscellaneous ‘‘ papers’ written on single 
tablets of irregular shapes and usually in columns ending with 
numerical signs. 

Exceptionally great as are the difficulties with which the work of 
detailed decipherment has to contend, on account of the very 
cursive character of the Kharoshthi script and the puzzling 
phonetic peculiarities of the Prakrit dialect employed, we already 
obtain many interesting glimpses from the passages which can be 
definitely interpreted. The titles given to the ruler in whose name 
orders are issued, and with reference to whose reign the more 


400 DECIPHERMENT OF DOCUMENTS _[cHap. xxv1. 


elaborate documents are dated (‘ Maharaja,’ ‘devaputra,’ 2.¢., 
‘son of the gods,” &c.), are purely Indian. They agree strikingly 
with the official nomenclature observed under the Kushana or Indo- 
Scythian princes who ruled the extreme North-West of India and 
Afghanistan during the first centuries of our era. The majority of 
the persons to or by whom documents are despatched bear purely 
Indian names, among them appearing a Kushana-sena, as if to 
emphasise some connection with Indo-Scythian dominion far away 
to the South-West. 

In strange contrast to the names, some of the titles borne by 
these officials are distinctly non-Indian (Chodbo, Shodhoga, Kala, 
&e.). But we meet also with official designations familar from 
ancient Indian usage (‘rajadvara-purasthita,’ ‘‘ president of the 
royal court of justice ;”’ ‘dibira,’ ‘‘ clerk,’ &c.). Letter-carriers, 
‘lekhaharaka,’ are frequently referred to by their Sanskrit designa- 
tion. The often recurring introductory formulas, with their stereo- 
typed greetings, honorific addresses (‘ priyadarshana ;’ ‘ deva- 
manushya-sampujita,’ ‘priyadeva-manushya,’ ‘‘dear to gods and 
men,’’ &c.), and polite inquiries after the health and spiritual welfare 
of the addressees, possess a distinct flavour of that quaint phraseology 
to which the Sanskrit correspondence of my Kashmirian Pandit 
friends has accustomed me. But in other documents we find a 
style far less ornate, in fact quite peremptory, as, ¢.g., in some office 
“memos” ordering the submission of affidavits (‘savatha ’) 
according to a specified list; the production of certain witnesses ; 
arrests of individuals, &e. 

The particular interest attaching to some petty records is 
well illustrated by an oblong tablet, dated in the ninth year of King 
Jitroghavarshman, which relates a transaction by a certain 
Buddhagosha, slave of the Sramana or Buddhist monk Anandasena, 
concerning some household goods, pawned perhaps or taken over 
on mortgage. The articles are enumerated in detail and their value 
indicated in a currency that we may yet succeed in determining. 
It is curious to find that this list, besides sheep, vessels, wool- 
weaving appliances and some other implements, eyumerates also 


( 


GOG ‘AX ‘N) UaHLyaAT 


(‘Spayqy-om4 opwog) 


NO LINANWN00d IHLHSOUVHN LNAIONY 


401 


27 


402 DECIPHERMENT OF DOCUMENTS _ [cHAP. XXVI. 


‘Namadis.’ We may well recognise here the earliest mention of 
the felt-rugs or ‘ Numdahs’ so familiar to Anglo-Indian use, which 
to this day form a special product of Khotan home industry and of 
which large consignments are annually exported to Ladak and 
Kashmir. In another document we read that all the ‘ Shodhogas’ 
and ‘Drangadharas,’ evidently local officials, of the district are 
complaining of the want of water; and many of the tablets seem to 
have reference to disputes about water used for irrigation. 

The frequent references in the tablets to ‘Khotana’ and its 
officials show us not only how ancient the name of Khotan is in its 
present phonetic form, but also that the district containing this 
settlement was part of the kingdom of Khotan. It is of interest 
that, alternating with that old popular name, we also find the 
duplicate form Kustana[ka] known to us from Hiuen-Tsiang’s 
records. It represents, in all probability, a learned adaptation of 
the local name made for the sake of a Sanskrit etymology, which 
the pilgrim duly relates to us together with its attendant pious 
legend (‘ku-stana’ meaning in Sanskrit ‘the breast of the 
Earth”). As if to remind us of the position which the ruined 
settlement must have occupied on the outskirts of the cultivated 
territory, we meet with frequent mention of “ frontier-watch 
stations,” designated by the Sanskrit term ‘ Dranga,’ the true 
significance of which I first demonstrated years ago in Kashmir. 
That the faith of Buddha must have been widely spread among 
the people can be proved by a number of passages. Thus the 
Buddhas, Arhats and other sacred categories of the Buddhist 
Pantheon are distinctly enumerated in one tablet, while in another 
the addressee is with polite unction designated as a ‘‘ Bodhisattva 
incarnate.” 

Not the least curious among the facts revealed by the work of 
decipherment is the discovery that there existed a recognised 
official terminology for the various classes of stationery represented. 
With unchanging regularity the wedge-shaped tablets are desig- 
nated in their context as ‘kila-mudra,’ literally, ‘‘ sealed wedges”; 
the ‘Takhtas’ with handles, apparently used for files, as 


CHAP. xxvi.]| TRADITION OF INDIAN IMMIGRATION 403 


‘stovana’; the oblong tablets with envelopes as ‘ lihitaka,’ or 
‘‘letter’’; the documents on leather as ‘anadilekha,’ or 
‘“‘yvescript,’ &c. It is evident that the clerks of those ancient 
offices had quite as keen a sense for bureaucratic distinctions of 
this kind as the Babu of modern India, who would never make a 
mistake about supplying himself with ‘‘ octavo note” for his 
D.0’s, foolscap for his ‘‘ fair dockets,’ or slips for his ‘‘ office 
memos.” 

The necessarily brief notes here presented will suffice to show 
that these Kharoshthi documents are bound to bring back to light 
many aspects of life and culture in an early period of Central- 
Asian history which seemed almost entirely lost from our field of 
vision. The very nature of the contents and the complete absence 
of similar records of ancient date in India itself will render their 
full elucidation a slow and laborious task. But whatever revelations 
of interesting detail may be in store for us, one important historical 
fact already stands out clearly. The use of an Indian language in 
the vast majority of the documents, when considered together with 
their secular character, strikingly confirms the old local tradition 
recorded by Hiuen-Tsiang and also in old Tibetan texts, but 
hitherto scarcely credited, that the territory of Khotan was 
conquered and colonised about two centuries before our era by 
Indian immigrants from Takshasila, the Taxila of the Greeks, in 
the extreme North-West of the Punjab. It is certainly a significant 
fact that within India the Kharoshthi script used in our tablets was 
peculiar to the region of which Taxila was the historical centre. 
Neither the language nor the script presented by our documents 
can satisfactorily be accounted for by the spread of Buddhism 
alone, seeing that the latter, so far as our available evidence goes, 
brought to Central Asia only the use of Sanskrit as the ecclesias- 
tical language, and the writing in Brahmi characters. 

It seemed strange that these ruins far away in the barbarian 
North, overrun by what Hindu legends vaguely knew as the ‘“‘ great 
sand ocean,” should have preserved for us in an Indian language 
records of everyday life-older than any written documents (as dis- 


404 DECIPHERMENT OF DOCUMENTS |cHAP. XXVI. 


tinguished from inscriptions) that have as yet come to light in 
India proper. But from the first there was ample evidence 
pointing to this chronological conclusion. The Kharoshthi writing 
of the tablets and leather documents, as already stated, showed 
close agreement in its paleographic features with the Kharoshthi 
inscriptions of the Kushana kings, whose rule in North-Western 
India undoubtedly falls mainly within the first two centuries of our 
era. This testimony was fully supported by the fortunate discovery 
in another ruin, N. VIIL., of a unique tablet showing by the side 
oj Kharoshthi some lines of Brahini characters which clearly display 
the peculiarities of Brahmi writing of the Kushana period. The 
evidence of the coins was equally eloquent, since the numerous 
finds made during my stay included only Chinese copper pieces of 
the Later Han Dynasty, whose reign came to a close in A.D. 220. 
Finally there was in the use of wood as the only writing material, 
apart from leather, another proof of considerable antiquity. 
Though the use of paper is attested in Chinese Turkestan from at 
least the fourth century a.p. onwards, yet I failed to discover even 
the smallest scrap of paper among all the ruined houses and 
ancient rubbish heaps. 

But with all these indications at hand, I felt particularly 
gratified when a recent discovery revealed the incontrovertible 
chronological evidence for which I had always longed. It came 
from one of the small pieces of wood inscribed with single lines of 
Chinese characters, of which the excavation of N. xv. ultimately 
yielded up over twoscore (for an illustration, see p. 316). Their 
preliminary examination at Kashgar and in the British Museum 
seemed to show that they contained brief orders, chiefly con- 
cerning the movements of specified individuals who were to be 
arrested or allowed to pass certain posts, etc. References to ancient 
localities such as Kucha, Shen-shen, Su-le or Kashgar, and the 
description of two persons as ‘Ta-Yue-chi,’ i.e., Indo-Scythians, 
were points possessed of considerable historical interest. But it 
was only when Dr. 8. W. Bushell, the distinguished Sinologist, had 
oceasion to examine these Chinese tablets that one of them was 


CHAP, XXVI.] CHINESE DATED RECORD 405 


discovered to be fully and precisely dated. The initial characters, 
as since verified also by my friend Professor Chavannes, plainly 
and unmistakably indicate the fifth year of the Tai-shih period 
of the Emperor Wu-ti, corresponding to 269 a.p. 

Thus an exact date has at last been found which fixes the period 
when this remarkable collection of documents accumulated. A 
careful comparison of the years recorded in the Kharoshthi tablets 
with the relative depths of the layers of rubbish in which they were 
found, may yet enable us to determine a number of important 
chronological details. A discussion of these would be out of place 
here, but I may call attention to a point of more general historical 
interest. We know from the Chinese Annals that the sovereignty 
of the Imperial Government over Eastern Turkestan, which during 
the Later Han Dynasty (24-220 a.p.) had vigorously asserted 
itself, was rudely shaken and for long periods practically effaced 
under the far less powerful dynasties which followed until the 
advent of the Tangs (A.p. 618). Of Wu-ti, however, the first 
Emperor of the Western Tsin Dynasty (a.p. 265-290) it is 
distinctly recorded that he succeeded in re-establishing Chinese 
authority in the westernmost provinces during his reign. The 
discoveries just described fully confirm this, as they show that 
Chinese posts then existed at this ancient settlement and probably 
also in other parts of Khotan territory. It is difficult to believe 
that the buildings of the ruined site continued to be inhabited for 
many years after Wu-ti’s time. We are thus tempted to connect 
its abandonment with the great political and economic changes 
which undoubtedly accompanied the withdrawal of Chinese 
authority from these parts. 

But, whatever the historical events may have been, there was 
ample evidence in this refuse-heap for the closeness of commercial 
relations with China. The pieces of remarkably well-finished 
lacquered ware and the bits of delicately woven silk fabrics, which 
lay embedded here with other litter, could only have come from the 
far eastern parts of the Empire. Whether the fragments of cut 
green and yellow glass, showing great transparency, and very 


406 DECIPHERMENT OF DOCUMENTS | [cHaP. XXxvVI. 


different from the coarse material found at other sites, were also of 
foreign origin, has not as yet been definitely decided. But the 
discovery of a seal made of a piece of ancient Chinese porcelain 
plainly points to such imports. 

Far more numerous, of course, were the objects for which local 
manufacture may be assumed. Mixed up with pottery frag- 
ments of all kinds there were rags of cotton and woollen materials, 
some showing delicate patterns and colours; eating-sticks and 
spindles of wood; remains of leather shoes and women’s slippers 
coloured red just like the ‘Charuks’ still in favourite use; thick 
wooden horse-combs; spoons made of bone; and other articles of 
domestic use. The large number of sheep’s knuckle-bones, often 
painted red or yellow, shows that gambling with this simple form of 
dice must have had its votaries in the household. Besides these 
there were was found also an ivory die, of the peculiar elongated 
shape still popular in India, and marked with round punches on its 
four sides. 

When the rubbish had all been cleared out, I found that one 
corner of the room was occupied by a circular mud-platform, about 5 
feet in diameter and 3 feet high, with its centre hollowed out to a 
depth of 10 inches. The men from Niya at once expressed the beliet 
that it was a trough, such as is used to this day in the houses of 
better-class people for keeping flowers fresh under water or wetted 
leaves. If the contrivance really served this object, it must have con- 
tinued in use during all the time the rubbish around it was accumula- 
tine. For the hollow on the top was found filled only with drift-sand. 

The other rooms of the house had evidently been. cleared long 
ago. Yet even here the search was not entirely fruitless. In the 
sheltered corner of the apartment next adjoining N. xv. I came 
upon a heap of wheat straw which, as the piece of matting below 
it showed, must have fallen from the roof. Among the straw there 
were stalks still retaining their grains in perfect preservation. 
There was no pony at hand like Turdi Khwoja’s venerable animal at 
Dandan-Uiliq on which to try the value of the antique straw as ¢ 
foodstuff. But my quaint old guide himself, the ‘‘ Aksakal of the 


cHaP. xxvi.} RELICS OF ANCIENT INDUSTRIES 407 


Taklamakan ” as he was called in camp, just then turned up from 
Khotan. His arrival was greeted by me with joy; for instead 
of doubtful antiquarian spoil Turdi brought this time my long- 
expected mails, the postal accumulations of more than a month, 
and various much-needed stores. 

It is impossible to refer here in detail to the ruins subsequently 
explored at this site. They were found scattered in small detached 
groups over a wide semicircular area, up to a distance of one mile 
and a half to the north of my second camp. Interesting as these 
excavations were, they yielded but a comparatively small harvest in 
written documents. The two dozen tablets brought to light com- 
prised, however, an important find. In one of the houses belonging 
to the northernmost group I found the small tablet which furnished 
the unique specimen of Brahmi writing already referred to. In the 
same dwelling some fine specimens of architectural wood-carving 
(see p. 369) came to light in the shape of massive corbels, 
showing flower ornaments which are closely allied in style to those 
found in the Greeco-Buddhist sculpture of ancient Gandhara. Less 
artistic but decidedly curious were the wooden boot-lasts we dis- 
covered in the same house; also a large cupboard had been left 
behind by its last inhabitants. A few hundred feet eastwards, close 
to some high sand dunes, the embankments of a small tank, 48 
feet square, could be clearly made out. One of the poplars that 
once gave shade to its water still raised its gaunt, bleached trunk to 
a height of 12 feet, as seen in the photograph at the head of this 
chapter. 

By the 18th of February [had completed the examination of every 
ruined structure that could be traced under the sand. From a high 
ridge rising about three miles beyond the northernmost ruins I 
searched the ground with field-glasses further towards the desert. 
But no indication of structural remains could be discovered over the 
great expanse where absolutely bare dunes alternated with equally 
denuded banks of loess. I was thus able to leave this fascinating 
site, which had yielded such precious antiquarian spoil, with a good 
conscience. 


408 DECIPHERMENT OF DOCUMENTS [cHAP. XxvI. 


Almost the whole of my stay had been a succession of deliciously 
clear days with bitterly cold nights and mornings, the minimum 
thermometer usually showing temperatures from 6 to 9° F. below 
zero. It was striking evidence of the remarkable clearness of the 
air that early on the morning of the 11th of February the Sub- 
Surveyor’s sharp eyes distinctly sighted the snowy mountains south 
of Niya, some 120 miles away. Yet I knew that such favourable 
conditions for desert work could not be expected to serve us much 
longer. I thought of the number of sites that still remained to be 
explored before the season of sand-storms would put an end to my 
explorations, and consequently realised the necessity of setting out 
for those fresh fields of work as early as possible. 


RUINED BUILDINGS WITHIN ENDERE FORT. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


THE RUINS OF ENDERE 


On the 18th of February I once more started my caravan, back to 


Imam Jafar Sadik. As I passed one ruin after the other familiar to 
me from the incessant work of the last weeks, I took occasion to 
collect specimens of the various kinds of wood from the withered 
trees of ancient orchards. Where will it be next that I can walk 
amidst poplars and fruit trees planted when the Cesars still ruled in 
Rome and the knowledge of Greek writing had barely vanished on 
the Indus? 

I had already heard at Niya, of ancient remains in the desert 
near the Endere stream about half-way towards Cherchen, and 
subsequent information decided me to select them for my next 


explorations. It would have been difficult to take all my former 
409 


410 THE RUINS OF ENDERE [CHAP. XXVII. 


labourers along to this new site, as the distance was great and the 
men were exhausted by the hard work of the last three weeks. The 
fresh set of men needed could only be secured from Niya. It was 
hence a welcome surprise when on arrival at that evening’s camping- 
place I was met by the Deputy of the Beg of Niya, who brought 
not only a fresh Kashgar mail sent on by the thoughtful Amban of 
Keriya, but also assurance that all arrangements had been made for 
the timely dispatch of the fresh contingent. The next day’s march to 
Imam Jafar Sadik was easy, and it rejoiced me to hear once more the 
rustling of the leaves in the luxuriant jungle that marks the end of 
the Niya stream. There was no sign yet of the approach of spring, 
but even in its winter sleep this living forest was a great change 
after the silent sands and ruins among which I had dwelt. At the 
Mazar hospice I enjoyed for one brief afternoon the cheerful warmth 
of a fireplace and indulged in that long-desired luxury, a thorough 
‘tub.’ But there was plenty to do besides, as I despatched from 
there my mails to Europe and India with the first notice of my 
recent discoveries, and also settled all accounts with the labourers 
and the Sheikhs of the Mazavr. 

T had all along thought that the Endere ruins might be reached 
by striking straight across the desert to the east of Imam Jafar 
Sadik, instead of returning first to Niya and thence marching along 
the Cherchen road. At first all knowledge of such a direct route 
was stoutly denied, but in the end one of the shepherds from the 
Mazar acknowledged that he had more than once visited flocks 
grazing on the Yartungaz stream, the one flowing into the desert 
next east of the Niya River. So he and Abdurrahman, a half-crazy 
devotee of the shrine, who claimed to have paid a visit to those ruins, 
were engaged as guides, and the 15th of February saw us once more 
steering amidst the sand dunes. Two miles beyond the Mazar all 
vegetation was left behind. Then we crossed two steep Dawans 
rising to about 150 feet and toiled on through high sand-hills for 
about six miles until large patches of gravel soil were struck where 
camels and ponies marched with ease. A supply of ice brought 
along from the Mazar enabled us to camp that evening at a spot 


cHAP. xxvi.] TO THE YARTUNGAZ RIVER 411 


half-way to the Yartungaz stream, while low tamarisk scrub and 
some Kumush supplied fuel. 

Marching south-eastwards on the following day over gravel- 
covered slopes and low sand dunes, we crossed a wide belt of tam- 
arisks and reeds which was said to be reached at times by a small 
stream known as the Suziije Darya. Three miles west of the 
present course of the Yartungaz stream an older bed of it was 
passed, completely dry. It was at once succeeded by high sand- 
ridges, such as usually accompany these desert rivers, and I felt 
heartily glad for the sake of our tired animals when at last in the 
evening the glittering ice of the stream came in sight, which meant 
for them rest and water. 

On February 17th we followed the Yartungaz River, which at our 
camping-place had a breadth of about 30 yards, down to the point 
where it is absorbed by the sands. It was a march of some eighteen 
miles, all through a belt of jungle which gradually widens out to a 
breadth of three or fourmiles. Everywhere we saw the tracks of sheep, 
but met no living creature until we emerged on the clearings which 
have been made by a small colony in the fertile area marking the 
furthest reach of the summer flood water. There is ample land and 
probably also irrigation water available for several villages. But 
only four families of agriculturists have established themselves here 
during the time of Niaz Hakim Beg ; and though they are sufficiently 
well off to employ labourers, no more ground has been cleared than 
twenty to thirty hands are able to cultivate. Even thus, it was a strange 
feeling for me to ride once more past fields and irrigation channels. 
Our excellent Darogha had marched ahead. So Abdul Karim, 
the foremost ‘Dehkan’ of the little settlement, a fine-looking old 
man, was ready to welcome us. His father had come from Faiza- 
bad in Badakhshan on a pilgrimage to Imam Jafar Sadik, and on 
settling down received a grant of land here. Abdul Karim was 
evidently proud to air what little knowledge of Persian he retained 
and to do the honours of this forlorn outpost in the desert. 

For the last five or six years the Yartungaz stream has shown a 
tendency to shift its final course westwards. Hence the present 


412 THE RUINS OF ENDERE [CHAP. XXVII. 


main channel loses itself in the sand some four miles to the west of 
the little colony. The water needed for irrigation is diverted into the 
old bed by a ‘ band’ which I had passed some seven miles higher up. 
But even thus the supply is getting precarious, and as the labour 
available is quite insufficient to cope with the vagaries of the 
stream, the people of Yartungaz Tarim have started fresh culti- 
vation at the new debouchure as an alternative in years when their 
old irrigation channel is likely to fail. Given an adequate supply 
of labour for the maintenance of dykes and canals, it is certain that. 
the area of cultivation could be greatly extended. If fields were to 
replace the expanse of jungle, covering at present an area of at least 
twenty-five square miles, the terminal oasis of the Yartungaz River 
might well present the conditions we must assume to have once 
existed round the ancient site below Imam Jafar Sadik. 

Here too it was impossible to obtain any clear information as to 
the ancient remains for which I was bound. But our energetic 
Darogha succeeded at last in hunting up reliable guides to the graz- 
ing-grounds of the Endere shepherds, and our supplies of foodstuffs 
and fodder could be replenished from the surplus stock of the little 
colony. Two long marches brought my caravan across the region of 
sand-dunes to the forest belt of the Endere stream. Immediately 
after leaving Yartungaz Tarim a formidable ‘Dawan’ of sand, 
apparently about 180 feet high, gave trouble to the camels and 
ponies. But as usual the ridges further away from the river grew 
lower, and broad depressions between them covered with soda efflor- 
escence offered easier ground. Ice brought from the Yartungaz and 
the contents of my water-tanks enabled us to camp half-way without. 
the necessity of digging a well, and the quantity of dead tamarisk 
stems close at hand though scanty sufficed for the camp fires. 
After we left Yartungaz a fairly strong wind began blowing from the 
north or north-east, and the dust-haze it raised displayed an ominous 
persistence. 

Late on the 19th of February we crossed the chain of high dunes 
which skirt the left bank of the Endere stream, and then continued 
to the south-east along what our guides called the ‘ old Darya’ of 


CHAP. xxviL.] ARRIVAL AT ENDERE STUPA 413 


Endere. Here, too, the river has in recent years been shifting 
westwards, so that we found quite a respectable sheet of ice, from 
10 to 20 yards in width, covering what previously had been a 
deserted, dry bed. On the other hand this return to the earlier 
channel has led to the abandonment of the little ‘ Tarim’ or colony 
that had been formed some miles further east on the ‘‘ new river,” 
now in process of drying up. It was manifest that these constant 
changes in the river courses, just before the desert absorbs them, 
account for the many dry depressions we had crossed since leaving 
Imam Jafar Sadik. 

On the following day we moved up the Endere stream for about 
ten miles to where a deserted shed of rushes marked the shepherd 
station of Kara-dchke-dlturgan (‘‘ Where the black goat sat’). 
From there our guides struck into the desert south-eastwards, and 
after another ten miles’ march next morning across low dunes I 
arrived at what they called the ‘ Potai’ of the ‘Kone-shahr.’ It was, 
of course, a brick Stupa, as I had assumed when this feature of the 
site was first vaguely mentioned to me at the Mazar. Nor was I 
surprised to find that it had been dug into, no doubt in the hope of 
treasure. All the same I pushed on with increased eagerness south- 
wards, where the remains of old houses were said to exist. The 
eroded ground around the Stupa was thickly strewn with pottery 
fragments, many of them coloured; but no trace of structural 
remains appeared until I had arrived quite close to low dunes 
enclosing the ruins. The rows of wooden posts that rose above the 
sand were indeed a familiar sight. But the high brick walls of some 
large building, and the remnants of a massive rampart encircling 
the ruins, presented a novel feature. 

The contingent of labourers from Niya had arrived just when I 
was nearing the Stupa. Considering the great distance, some 120 
miles, from which the men had been brought, and the difficulty of 
communicating with them over wholly uninhabited ground, I felt 
not a little pleased at this well-managed concentration, which 
enabled me to start work at once. Going over the ground once 
enclosed by the circumyvallation which had a diameter of about 425 


414 THE RUINS OF ENDERE [CHAP, XXVII. 


feet, I noticed near the centre rows of wooden posts just reaching 
above the sand dune which covered this part of the area. Their 
arrangement in two concentric squares at once recalled the temple 
cellas with enclosing passages I had excavated at Dandan-Uiliq. 
A little experimental digging at one of the corners of the inner 
square soon brought to light stucco fragments which had belonged 
to a large-sized image. So the whole of my little force, counting 
over twenty ‘ Madigars,’ and supplemented by shepherd guides and 
other followers, was at once set to work here. 

Within an hour I had conclusive proof that my surmise was 
correct. From the loose sand that filled the building more and 
more pieces of sculpture in stucco turned up, resembling in make 
and colouring the material used in the Dandan-Uiliq statues. My 
conclusion as to the approximate date of this shrine was soon 
verified by successive finds of portions of paper manuscripts. They 
comprised several leaves, broken in the middle, of a Sanskrit text in 
ancient Brahmi characters, as well as scraps of sheets written in 
that very cursive form of Brahmi which appeared so often in the 
non-Indian documents of Dandan-Uiliq. Here too the language 
for which this script was used was clearly not of Indian origin. 
The expectations roused by these first finds were not disappointed. 
It took nearly two days to clear the temple of the sand that had 
covered and preserved it. The shrine seen on p. 415 consisted of 
a cella, 20 feet square, having on each side a passage 5 feet wide, 
and was occupied in its centre by a large pedestal bearing originally 
four seated stucco images, presumably Buddhas. But of these only 
the legs and the lowest portions of the robes had survived.  Life- 
sized statues in the same material, all broken above the waist, but 
retaining in part the vivid colouring of their robes, occupied the 
four corners. 

At the feet of these statues and around the hexagonal base of the 
central pedestal our excavation revealed in rapid succession 
manuscript leaves on paper, evidently once deposited there as votive 
offerings. Among the finds made close in front of the central base 
the fragments of a Sanskrit text dealing with matters of Buddhist 


CHAP. xxvu.]} MANUSCRIPT FINDS IN TEMPLE 415 


worship, apparently after the fashion of the Mahayana school, were 
particularly numerous. Judging from the paleographical features 
displayed by the very clear Brahmi hand this manuscript may well 
have been written as early as the fifth century. The manuscript, 
which had the shape of the usual Indian Pothi, must have been 
broken in the middle, either owing to folding or in the course of 
some previous digging by “ treasure-seekers’’; for among the 


INTERIOR OF RUINED TEMPLE CELLA, ENDERE, AFTER EXCAVATION. 


separately recovered packets of leaves, right and left halves 
were represented in about equal numbers. The pagination 
numbers read by me run up to forty-six, and probably about 
one-half of the original folia may yet be restored from these pieces. 

Another very remarkable find was a closely-packed roll of paper, 
about 4 inches high and half an inch thick, from which under the 
expert treatment secured in the British Museum the four large folia 
reproduced in my “‘ Preliminary Report’’ have since been unfolded. 


416 THE RUINS OF ENDERE [CHAP. XXVII. 


The writing is Brahmi, of the well-known Central-Asian type, while 
the text is in a non-Indian language, perhaps identical with that 
represented by various manuscript finds from Dandan-Uiliq. 

As the excavation proceeded on the other sides of the cella, 
curious evidence came to light of the various nations from which 
the worshippers of this shrine were drawn. Pieces of thin paper 
with a few Chinese characters and small coloured drawings were 
found at the pedestal of several images. Far more interesting, 
historically, was the discovery of numerous paper leaves with 
Tibetan writing. They are all written on a peculiar paper easily 


TWO LEAVES IN CENTRAL-ASIAN BRAHMI, FROM PAPER ROLL (BE. I. 7) FOUND IN 
ENDERE TEMPLE, F 


(Scale one-fourth.) 


distinguished by its toughness and yellowish colour, and invariably 
on one side only. Already at the time of their discovery it was easy 
to recognise that, with the exception of three detached sheets 
showing very cursive characters, which have since been proved to 
contain Buddhist prayers and religious poems, all Tibetan leaves 
and fragments had formed part of a single Pothi. The manner in 
which the pieces of manuscript were found deposited before the 
various images and on the mouldings of the central pedestal leaves 
no doubt that they had been distributed purposely. In order to 
propitiate as many divinities as possible, the pious owner on his 
visit to this shrine seems to have first cut up the manuscript in the 


CHAP. XXVII. | TIBETAN MANUSCRIPTS 417 


middle, and then proceeded to deposit the halved leaves all round 
the cella. 

The careful examination since made of these disjecta membra by 
Mr. D. L. Barnett, of the British Museum, has proved that they 
belonged to an early Tibetan version of the Salistamba-sutra, a 
Buddhist treatise on philosophy, the Sanskrit original of which is 
known only from quotations. The great importance of the Tibetan 
text, of which about one-half has thus been recovered, has been 
lucidly discussed by Mr. Barnett in his ‘“ Preliminary Notice” of 
these discoveries published in the Royal Asiatic Society’s Journal 
for 1903. Here it can be indicated only in the briefest outlines. 
The exceptional interest of the fragments rests not merely on the 


HALF-LEAF OF TIBETAN MS. ON PAPER, FROM ENDERE TEMPLE (E. Ts 32). 
(Scale three-eighths.) 


fact that they supply a valuable criterion for the comparatively 
modern version of the same text embodied in the Kanjur, and thus 
for the critical analysis of this great canon of Tibetan Buddhist 
literature. Being the oldest known specimens of Tibetan writing, 
they furnish a wealth of fresh material for the study of Tibetan 
paleeography and orthoepy. But still greater value must be claimed 
for them on account of the historical significance with which the 
place and circumstances of their discovery invest them. 

There can be no doubt as to the political conditions with which 
we must connect the finds of Tibetan texts in this ruined temple, as 
well as the appearance of Tibetan graffiti that I found covering its 


stuccoed walls in several places. We know from the Chinese annals 
; 28 


418 THE RUINS OF ENDERE [CHAP. XXVI. 


of the Tang dynasty that, during the second half of the eighth 
century, Tibetan invasion seriously threatened, and towards its close 
actually destroyed, the authority of the Imperial Government in 
Eastern Turkestan. These records, of which Professor Chavannes 
has kindly communicated to me a series of very interesting extracts, 
indicate plainly that, though the Tibetan advance had already 
(about 766 4.p.) led to the isolation of those outlying provinces, the 
local Chinese administrators succeeded for a time in maintaining 
their authority. at least over part of their territories. In 781 a.p. 
they managed to transmit pathetic appeals for help to the Imperial 
court, from which, however, there came no succour, only grants of 
laudatory titles and liberal acknowledgments of official merits. In 
784 a.p. their position appeared so desperate that the Central 
Government considered the advisability of their recall. Finally, 
from 791 A.p. onwards, the Tibetans possessed themselves of Turfan 
and the adjoining region, and nothing more was heard of Eastern 
Turkestan: or the ‘Four Garrisons,’ as the Chinese then styled the 
territories controlled from Kucha, Khotan, Karashahr, and Kashgar. 

It is a fortunate circumstance that a Chinese inscription scratched 
into the cella wall close to the image in the north-west corner (visible 
to the right in the photograph, p. 415) renders it certain that we must 
read the evidence of the Tibetan finds in the light of the Chinese 
records just summarised. From the photographs taken by me of this 
curious eraffito, Professor Chavannes has been able to make out a 
considerable part of its contents, probably as much as the loosely 
scratched characters will ever permit to be read. It mentions 
the return of Tsin-kia-hing, a dignitary of the Chinese adminis- 
tration charged with official sacrifices, to his own district, apparently 
after the receipt of a report concerning the death of certain military 
officers with whom he was associated. Twice the ‘Ta-fan’ or 
Tibetans are mentioned, and a reference is also made to the ‘‘ Four 
Garrisons.” The date when this record was incised is given as the 
seventh year of a period which, owing to the defective preservation 
of the first character, may be read as Kai-yuen or Cheng-yuen, the 
year meant corresponding either to a.D. TLD or Oe 


cHAP. xxvil.] DATE IN CHINESE GRAFFITO 419 


In the present state of our knowledge it seems hazardous to 
decide definitely between these two dates. The later ONEs Fo LAT s, 
would singularly agree with that recorded by the Annals for the final 
subversion of Chinese rule, and seems to find some support also in 
the fact that the latest Chinese document of Dandan-Uiliq dates 
from 790. In favour of the earlier date, 719 a.p., it may be 
mentioned that only Han coins were found ainong these ruins, and 
also that the sculptural remains of the Endere temple seemed to me 
to bear a somewhat older character than those of the Dandan-Uiliq 
shrines. However this may be, it can be considered quite certain 
that the date when this Chinese graffito was scratched into the wall : 
could not have preceded by many years the deposition of the various 
votive manuscripts and the subsequent abandonment of the shrine. 
The rough, and not very hard, plaster of these cella walls was not a 
material that could remain intact for a long period without repair, 
and with its renewal all these casual scratchings of pious visitors 
would no doubt have vanished. This consideration fixes the 
second half of the eighth century as the latest possible time for the 
production of the Tibetan as well as the other manuscripts found 
here. The same applies to the Tibetan graffiti which, owing to 
their very cursive writing, have not yet been fully deciphered. 

The very numerous little rags which were found scattered in front 
of the various image bases are undoubtedly votive offerings of a 
humbler kind. They comprise shreds of many fabrics, from 
elaborately woven Chinese silks and printed cottons to the simple 
‘Kham,’ a kind of buckram, mentioned in Hiuen-Tsiang’s account 
of Khotan, and still worn by the common folk throughout this region. 
The variety of this collection vividly reminded me of the wonderful 
display of rags that graces the approaches to the resting-place of the 
holy Imam Jafar and other saints throughout Turkestan. Islam has 
indeed little changed the popular type of ex-votos which were in 
vogue during Buddhist times, and which in this case have provided 
for us a sample collection of ancient fabrics of no small archeological 
interest. 

During the days following I had almost all the buildings within 


420 THE RUINS OF ENDERE [CHAP, XXVII, 


the enclosing ramparts cleared of sand. These excavations furnished 
interesting data as to the methods of construction employed, but 
failed to throw much light on the original destination of the whole 
of this ruined settlement. The large brick building to the east of 
the temple, of which a portion left exposed by the sand is seen on 
p- 409, occupies with its massive walls of sun-dried bricks three: 
sides of a quadrangle over 100 feet square. The dimensions 
of its rooms suggest public use; but as, with the exception of a. 
walled fireplace or two, they were found completely empty, there 
was nothing to prove the true character of the structure. Were 
these the quarters of a well-to-do monastic establishment which 
found it advisable to protect itself by walls and ramparts? Or do 
the latter mark a fortified frontier-post which sheltered also a 
Buddhist temple ? 

Tn a row of small rooms built of timber and plaster, which stood 
to the north of the shrine, there was one that appeared to have 
served as a little chapel. Its wall on one side was occupied by an 
elaborate fresco, which seems to have represented a Buddha 
surrounded by his former epiphanies. The wall had been broken 
at 5 feet from the ground, but the colowrs and outlines of the 
remaining part were in very fair preservation. In the same little 
room we found a well-executed small painting on wood, showing the 
familiar figure of the elephant-headed Indian god of wisdom, 
Ganesha. To the south of the temple my excavations revealed a 
small double-storied building, of which, however, only the lower 
floor rooms remained. They had no doors, and were evidently 
underground apartments intended for use in the winter. The large 
fireplace found in one of them, with its elaborate mouldings, is seen 
in the photograph reproduced on p. 421. 

The circumvallation, which originally consisted of a solid rampart 
of clay about 30 feet broad at the base and 174 feet high, had survived 
only in parts of the south face, flanking a gate, and in much decayed 
segments elsewhere. On the top of the ramparts ran a parapet of 
brickwork 54 feet high, and behind it a platform that seems to have 
been paved with bundles of brushwood, manifestly for the sake of 


CHAP, xxvil.| REMAINS OF ANCIENT RAMPARTS 491 


greater consistency. There was nothing to tell of the attacks from 
Tibetans or other foes which this little stronghold may once have 
resisted. But its walls have certainly helped to ward off that worst 
danger of ancient remains in the desert region—the erosive action 
of winds and moving sands. Looking around from the ruined 
ramparts, it was easy to realise that the original level of the sur- 
rounding ground has been lowered at least 10 feet by erosion. 


LOWER FLOOR ROOM OF RUINED DWELLING-PLACE, ENDERE FORT. 


Inside the circumyallation the drift-sand, once accumulated, was 
less liable to be shifted by the winds, and thus provided a protecting 
cover for the ruins. 

The extent of the erosion which the whole area has undergone 
was brought home to me by the closer examination I made 
of the Stupa already noticed. On surveying the structure I found 
that the lowest line of bricks in its foundation was about 10 feet 


4929, THE RUINS OF ENDERE [CHAP, XXVII. 


higher than the level of the ground in the immediate vicinity. 
Kept down by the weight of the masonry, the loess soil below the 
Stupa has resisted erosion and now appears like an additional base, 
making the structure look considerably higher than it is in reality. 
Though the outer casing of bricks has suffered a great deal, I 
succeeded with a little trouble in ascertaining the original propor- 
tions of this ‘‘ memorial tower.’ On a square base, measuring 
93 feet on each side and about 7 feet in height, there rose a solid 
dome 16 feet in diameter and approximately of the same height. 
Thus the total dimensions agree very closely with those of the 
little Stupa at the Niya River Site, though the arrangement there 
of a double basement introduces a marked difference in the detailed 
proportions. In Indian Stupas the increase of height relative to 
diameter may generally be considered a sign of later date, and a 
comparison of these two Stupas, the time of which can be approxi- 
mately determined, seems to confirm this observation also for this 
northern region. 

On the 26th of February my explorations at this site were 
completed, thanks to the energy with which the work of excavation 
had been carried on, from early morning until after nightfall by the 
light of bonfires. The interesting finds showed plainly that I had 
reached the border-line beyond which Indian influences yielded to 
Chinese. A move further east would have carried me beyond the 
limits of the territory with the archeological exploration of which I 
was concerned. Besides, the time that remained at my disposal 
seemed none too ample for the expeditions I had yet to make to 
ancient localities north of Keriya and Khotan. So I reluctantly 
decided that the time had come to set my face again westwards. 
There was consolation in the thought that it meant a start on the 
journey which was to bring me back to Europe and to dear ones 
not seen for long years. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 
EXPEDITION TO KARADONG RUIN 


ON the 26th of February I left the Endere ruins on my rapid 
march back to Niya. The river, which was crossed at a point 
some ten miles to the south-west of the old site, had through the 
warm sunshine of the last few days lost its coating of ice in the 
shallower parts ; but over the main current of the stream, about 
15 yards across, the ice was still strong enough to bear heavy loads. 
One by one our camels were got safely across. Then the water- 
tanks were filled once more for the passage of the broad desert belt 
towards the Yartungaz River. Marching along an old bed of the 
Endere River to the south, we passed through luxuriant Toghrak 
jungle for another ten miles, and late in the evening reached the 
deserted shepherd’s hut of Tokuz-kol. The name means ‘ nine 
lakes,”’ but of water there was none. 

On the morning of the 27th we still steered due south through a 
level plain covered with Kumush. All traces of the true sand desert 
for a time disappeared. The change of scenery was all the more 
striking as the distant mountain rampart of the Kuen-luen was - 
clearly visible during the morning. Though sixty to eighty miles 
away from the range, we could distinguish a series of prominent 
peaks with the glaciers descending around them. They were duly 
recorded on the plane-table, but only just in time ; for after midday, 
when we had struck the track which leads from Keriya to Cherchen, 
a strong north wind raised such a dust-haze that soon the mountain 


view vanished like a vision. Here the Endere shepherd guide was 
423 


49.4 EXPEDITION TO KARADONG RUIN [cuap. xxvii. 


discharged, not until Thad given him a little present for his children. 
I had met them, two sturdy little boys, on the way, but had then 
nothing to offer but bits of chocolate from my saddle-bag. This 
they could not be induced to try, though my little terrier, just to 
encourage them, readily swallowed some of it. I hope that the 
piece of a Russian sugarloaf I got out from the baggage and sent 
them was received with more confidence. 

After reaching the Cherchen road, once the great line of com- 
munication to China, but now a lonely desert track with practically 
no traffic, we still had a long march to do that day. For over 
twenty miles we rode to the south-west, over hard-grained sand, 
with scarcely any dunes and bare of vegetation, until Yoke-toghrak 
was reached. There a small patch of tamarisks and Toghraks 
offered scanty fuel, and some brackish water was found in wells 
about 6 feet deep. The camels did not turn up until close on 
midnight, and dinner was accordingly an affair of the small hours 
of the morning. The next day brought, however, an easy march to 
the Yartungaz River, where men and beasts could be made com- 
fortable. On the way I had the satisfaction to fall in with Tila 
Bai, my honest pony-man, who was now bringing mails and sadly 
wanted articles from the stores I had left at Khotan. It is always 
a pleasure to receive bags full of ‘home mails.’ But I enjoy the 
sensation most when it comes unexpectedly, and there is time to 
sit down by the roadside and pore peacefully over the contents, as 
T could this time. A look over the Weekly Times, nearly three 
months old, put me again in contact with the affairs of the far-off 
West and East. 

The two long marches which brought me back again to Niya 
yielded pleasing variety in the little lakes and marshes we passed. 
They are fed by springs, the water of which, just released from the 
erip of frost, was flowing plentifully into the reed-covered lagoons. 
From the Shitala Darya, a watercourse similarly formed, at which 
we halted, there stretched an uninterrupted jungle to within some 
miles of the Niya River. Its eastern bank proved to be flanked, 
just like that of all the other rivers that flow into the desert east of 


CHAP. XXVIII. | RETURN TO KERIYA 425 


Khotan, by a high range of sand dunes. This was crossed near 
the Mazar of Shitala Padshahim, a simple collection of posts with 
yak tails and fluttering rags, and at last, after a ride over much 
boggy ground, I again entered the little oasis. In the twilight it 
seemed like a return to civilisation. Since starting from Niya on 
the 23rd of January I had covered over 300 miles in a great oval 
loop. Yet when the positions indicated on the plane-table for the 
starting and closing points of our route came to be compared, the 
difference proved to be only three-fourths of a mile in longitude and 
a little over a mile in latitude. 

Leaving my ‘‘ goods train’ of camels to follow behind, I covered 
the distance from Niya to Keriya, some eighty miles, in two stages. 
There I was busy at work with reports and letters, and with re- 
arranging my baggage. The weather was rapidly getting warmer ; 
hence all heavy winter clothing was to be left behind before the 
start for the ancient site I next intended to visit far down the 
Keriya River. As arrangements also had to be made for labourers 
to accompany us for excavation work, and for the supplies that men 
and animals needed, the two days, which were all I could allow 
myself, were indeed no time of rest for me or Ibrahim, my energetic 
Darogha. 

Huang-Daloi, the kindly Amban, opportunely returned the day 
after my arrival from a little tour of criminal investigation. So I had 
the wished-for opportunity of thanking him personally for all the help 
which I had experienced at a distance. From the stores that had 
arrived from Khotan I had sent him the best selection of tinned goods 
I could offer. Everything seemed to be duly appreciated, and the 
return presents in the shape of fodder supplies, sheep, &c., were 
quite overwhelming. When the Amban, a few minutes after my 
departure, paid his return visit, I was able to satisfy his curiosity 
about my finds with specimens of ancient tablets, &e. With the his- 
torical sense which all educated Chinese seem to possess, he at once 
rightly surmised that the use of wood as a writing material indicated 
a period corresponding to that when split bamboos were employed 
in China previous to the invention of paper. Extravagant rumours 


426 EXPEDITION TO KARADONG RUIN  [cnap. xxviu. 


as to my discovery of coffers full of gold, &c., seemed to have run 
through all the Bazars far away to Khotan and beyond. But L 
could see that Huang-Daloi had quite sensible notions of what I 
was looking out for, and of what I had found. So we parted once 
more in the friendliest fashion. and with mutual confidence. 

Thanks to the Amban’s energetic assistance, I was able to set 
out on the 7th of March for my next objective. It was the ruined 
site of Karadong, situated in the desert some 150 miles north of 
Keriya, to which Dr. Hedin had paid a short visit in 1896, on 
his memorable march down the Keriya Darya. I knew from the 
accounts given by Turdi, whose ‘“‘treasure-seeking”’ expeditions had 
twice extended to this place, that the remains of this so-called 
“ancient city”’ (which he called Aktiken) were very scanty. Yet 
I felt that my duty demanded a personal examination of the ruins. 
For the loss of time which their great distance implied I decided 
to make up by hard marching. 

With the baggage lightened and my camels partially relieved by 
the hire of fresh animals, I was thus able to push on in three days 
to the point where I had first struck the Keriya Darya from Dandan- 
Uiliq. The aspect of the river-banks was still as bleak and bare 
as two months before, but in place of the glassy sheet of ice there 
now rolled a muddy current, fed by the melting of the ice that had 
covered the marshes and pools about Keriya. It was a regular 
spring flood from the ‘ Kara-su’ (‘‘ black water ’’) feeders of the 
river, while months would yet pass before the flood of ‘ Ak-su’ 
(“white water”) would bring down the melting snows of the 
mountains. At the Burhanuddin Mazar I was cheerfully welcomed 
by the ‘Sheikhs,’ who evidently remembered the handsome offering 
made at my first visit; and I spent there pleasant hours, busily 
writing in the sheltered little loggia of the mosque. When 
I left to catch up my caravan, Ghazi Sheikh, the senior of the 
priestly fraternity, insisted on accompanying me. He was a jovial 
old man and quite looked the ‘ Bai,’ or capitalist, which he was 
according to local notions, having at least a thousand sheep grazing 
along the river. He knew, of course, every living soul of the little 


cHaP. xxv] ALONG THE KERIYA RIVER 497 


community of nomadic herdsmen and the name of every grazing- 
ground. So it was easy for our Darogha to strengthen the band of 
labourers I had brought from Keriya by fresh recruits from among 
the shepherds. The men joined us readily enough ; for uncouth 
and ‘‘jungly”’ as their appearance was, in rough furs and sandals 
made of goatskins, yet these supposed ‘‘ semi-savages ’’ were quite 
alive to the chance of earning a little hard cash that might come 
in useful on their periodical visits to Keriya and its Bazars. Thus 
my band kept swelling on the way like a small avalanche. 

The route which we followed for three days from Kochkar Oghil 
downwards was new to me, but space does not permit more than a 
passing reference to one distinct change in scenery. The river, 
which down to this point had occupied a deep and narrow bed 
winding in rapid turns, now spread itself out in broad reaches. 
Though the channel actually filled with water was at the time only 
80 to 100 yards wide, yet the clearly marked bed of the summer 
floods attained in places the imposing breadth of quite half a mile. 
The belt of vegetation, which accompanies the river on its course 
through the desert sand, did not spread out in the same proportion. 
But the increasing height of the Toghraks and the thickness of the 
Kumush beds showed that the moisture received from the river was 
plentiful wherever it reached. 

On the 12th of March we crossed a high Dawan appropriately 
named ‘ Yoghan-kum’ (‘‘ High Sands’’), which juts out transversely 
into the river-bed, and is faced on the opposite eastern bank by 
similar high ridges of sand. But this obstacle once passed, wide 
room offered itself to the vagaries of the stream. From the height 
of the Yoghan-Kum I could make out no less than three dry beds 
spreading in different directions like the fingers of a hand. We 
followed the middle one—a wide, flat Nullah in which the yellow 
Kumush beds swayed by the breeze looked curiously like fields of 
ripe corn, down to where it met the actual river-course again near 
the shepherds’ station known as Tonguz-baste. Here Ghazi Sheikh’s 
flock was established for the time being. So hospitable offerings of 
sheep and milk turned up that evening. As usual, the end of the 


428 EXPEDITION TO KARADONG RUIN [cuap. xxvii. 


former bed was marked by a lagoon of fresh water communicating 
with the actual river-course, yet keeping its water clear of the mud 
which discoloured the latter. - It seemed a favourite haunt of wild 
duck, of which hundreds were disporting themselves on this pretty 
sheet of water. That my camp was placed within 200 yards of its 
bank seemed in no way to disturb the birds. Their loud calls 
sounded strange to me after the stillness of my desert camps. 

I knew from Dr. Sven Hedin’s account that the ruins I had come 
in search of lay in the desert, within a march to the north-west of 
Tonguz-baste. Mullah Shah, an experienced shepherd who was to 
guide us, turned up late at night, and after prolonged protestations 
of ignorance, acknowledged that he had twice visited Karadong. 
With him came another shepherd, Muhammad Shah, ‘ the hunter ”’ 
(Merghen), an active young fellow who had also once seen the place. 
He was to help Mullah Shah, his ‘ Ustad,’ or master, in finding the 
track. This turned out no easy task. The morning was very hazy, 
and by the time the water-tanks had been filled and a depot made 
of supplies not immediately needed, a stiff north wind sprung up 
which by degrees developed into a regular ‘ Buran,’ the first of the 
season. We followed for about seven miles a course almost due 
north, until we passed the westernmost of the former river-beds 
above mentioned, near a little pool, known as Toldama, retaining 
some flood water. Then our guides struck to the north-west. 

So far we had marched in a whirl of dust. But now, with the 
increasing force of the storm, the air became so thick that it was 
difficult to see even for a hundred yards. _ The assurance with which 
Mullah Shah and his pupil continued to guide us was doubly 
welcome under such circumstances. With the sand driving into 
my face and accumulating under the eyelashes in spite of goggles, 
it was difficult to see much of the route. But I noted that after a 
couple of miles the scattered groups of Toghraks were left behind 
and the sand dunes rose in height. After plodding on among them 
for another hour, our guides declared that we were near the 
tamarisk-covered copses that have given the site its name, Kara- 
dong (‘the Black Hillocks”’). But as in the blinding dust they 


eae 


CHAP, XXVIII. | THE FIRST SAND-STORM 429 


could not make sure of the exact direction, I let them go ahead while 
we sought shelter behind a tamarisk-covered cone. It was curious 
to watch how the sand was driven in a thick spray over the crest- 
line of the dunes, just as if they were storm-tossed waves. After 
half an hour Muhammad Shah returned with the reassuring news 
that the ruins were due west of us and not far off. In proof he 
brought a piece of old pottery he had picked up. So the march was 


INTERIOR OF RUINED QUADRANGLE, KARADONG. 


resumed just as the force of the storm showed signs of abating, 
and after another two and a half miles, over fairly high dunes, we 
arrived at the ruins. 

The remains of Karadong proved to consist mainly of a ruined 
quadrangle, which was formed by a mud rampart about 235 feet 
square, with rows of timber-built rooms over it. Within this 
quadrangle, which was crossed by two large dunes rising to about 
20 feet above the original ground-level, I could just recognise the 


430 EXPEDITION TO KARADONG RUIN [cmap. xxvitt. 


timber débris of a much-decayed structure sticking out from the 
deep sand. The photograph on p. 429 shows this ruin after 
excavation, together with the interior of the quadrangle as seen 
from the north-east corner. Excessive erosion had played havoc 
with the structures which once occupied the exposed top of the 
rampart, and the lines of walls could there be traced with difficulty. 
Potsherds, small broken pieces of glass and metal, shreds of felt 
and scanty refuse of a similar kind, were all that marked their 
former occupation. 

The trying conditions under which I had reached this site 
curiously reminded me of what Hiuen-Tsiang tells of the sand- 
buried town of Ho-lo-lo-kia, which a local legend heard by him 
at Pi-mo (see below, p. 488), placed somewhere in the great 
desert to the north of Khotan. It was believed to have been 
covered up by a rain of sand in consequence of the curse of a holy 
visitor whom its king had treated with ignominy, and who foretold 
the destruction of the town after seven days. Only one pious man 
took warning and escaped to Pi-mo by means of an underground 
passage. ‘* On the seventh day, in the evening, it rained sand and 
earth, and filled the city.’ Ho-lo-lo-kia, the pilgrim tells us, ‘‘is 
now a great sand mound. The kings of the neighbouring countries 
and persons in power from distant spots have many times wished to 
excavate the mound and take away the precious things buried 
there ; but as soon as they have arrived at the borders of the place 
a furious wind has sprung up, dark clouds have gathered together 
from the four quarters of heaven, and they have become lost and 


99 ce 


unable to find their way.” 

I had not gone to the Karadong site to look for treasures such 
as old Hiuen-Tsiang’s ‘persons in power from distant spots ” 
sought; nor had the Buran that greeted me on the day of my 
arrival made me lose the way. But the result was not very 
different if judged by the ‘‘finds’’ which rewarded the work here. 
I soon convinced myself that no other ruins of any kind could be 
traced in the neighbourhood besides those already briefly described. 
Even pottery fragments were scarce and limited to a small area. 


CHAP. XXVIII. | ANCIENT FORTIFIED POST 431 


The natives may indeed call these remains a ‘ kone-shahr,’ using 
the term which is applied throughout the country to old ruins of 
any kind. But to talk of an ‘ancient city’ here would imply more 
imagination than an archeologist need care to take credit for. 

The excavation of the ruined structures in the interior of the 
quadrangle kept my little force of diggers hard at work for two days, 
but there was little to reward their labour. Long prior to the accu- 
mulation of the present covering of sand, the buildings must have 
been exposed to the full force of erosion. The plaster of the walls 
had completely disappeared, and much of their wooden framework 
had also crumbled into loose débris. From the general arrangement 
of the rooms, however, which could still be made out, it was evident 
that these structures must have once served as dwellings. 

Only Toghrak wood appears to have been used in the con- 
struction of these houses and of the enclosing quadrangle. This 
species of poplar grows plentifully in the jungles of all the rivers 
which lose themselves in the desert. But its twisted knotty trunks 
and branches by no means furnish as good a building material as 
the Terek or white poplar, the Jigda, and other trees planted in 
the cultivated areas. At Dandan-Uiliq and at the ancient. site 
beyond Imam Jafar Sadik only timber of these latter trees seems 
to have been used for the framework of houses, which accordingly 
there bore a far more finished look than at Karadong. At those 
other old sites the dead trunks of Terek and other trees dependent 
on cultivation formed a conspicuous feature. But around Karadong 
I looked for them in vain. Dead trees rising from between the 
sand dunes were plentiful, but they were all old Toghraks, just as 
are still found growing luxuriantly along the recent river-beds a 
few miles to the east. I concluded from this observation that 
cultivation could not have existed to any extent in the vicinity of 
the Karadong site at the period from which its buildings date. 

What then can have been the purpose of the latter, situated as 
they evidently were in the narrow belt of forest land between the 
desert and the river? Keeping in view the position and the 
peculiar plan of the ruined structures, I think the suggestion may 


432 EXPEDITION TO KARADONG RUIN [cHap. xxvutL 


be hazarded that we have here the remains of a fortified frontier 
post or roadside Sarai. A remark of Mirza Haidar, the Moghul 
leader and historian, makes it very probable that the Keriya River 
reached the Tarim as late as the sixteenth century. Its old course 
across the desert can be followed even now without serious difficulty, 
and certainly forms the most direct route between Khotan and 
the ancient settlements of Kucha and farther north-east. Karadong 
lies about half-way between the Tarim and the line of oases 
stretching to the east of Khotan, and a small post established here 


WOODEN GATEWAY OF RUINED QUADRANGLE, KARADONG, AFTER EXCAVATION. ’ 


would have answered the purpose of guarding the route and pro- 
tecting the approaches from the northern region. The age of the 
ruined structure is approximately indicated by the coins I picked 
up in its immediate vicinity, which were all copper pieces of the 
Later Han dynasty, showing long wear. 

The best preserved portion of this ancient Sarai or post was 
the large wooden gateway which my subsequent excavations 
brought to light on the eastern face of the quadrangular enclosure, 
It formed a square of 22 feet, and its roof, perfectly intact, 


CHAP. xxvil.] FIND OF ANCIENT CEREALS 433 


reached the top level of the rampart. Besides a broad central gate- 
way, closed by a massive wooden door of two leaves, there were two 
narrower passages flanking it on either side. I noticed exactly the 
same arrangement in the gates of all Yamens I visited. As the 
whole of this gate was filled up with sand to its ceiling, 14 
feet above the floor, it took two days’ hard digging before we had 
cleared it. Above the gate there once rose another storey, but of 
this there remained only a few posts and a thick earth flooring. 
Embedded in the layer of rubbish that covered this we came upon 
a little store of remarkably well-preserved cereals.. There were a 
couple of pounds of ‘ Tarigh,’ a kind of pulse still cultivated about 
Keriya, together with small quantities of wheat, rice, oats, another 
sort of pulse, some roots apparently used as condiments, and a 
capful of large black currants dried perfectly hard. I had a small 
quantity of the ‘ Tarigh’ boiled, and found the antique porridge 
made of it useful for glueing envelopes. 

While this excavation was still proceeding, we had a return of 
the Buran that greeted us on our arrival. Though the force of the 
wind, this time from the south-west, was somewhat less, the 
driving sand made it decidedly uncomfortable both in and outside 
the tent. As the supply of sufficient water for my comparatively 
large number of men was also a serious difficulty, I felt heartily 
glad when by the evening of the 17th of March our work at this 
desolate spot was concluded. Next morning I left Karadong, just 
as I had reached it, in an atmosphere thick with dust and quite 
oppressive by its haziness. The look of the desert harmonised 
with the mournful news conveyed in the small mail sent on from 
Keriya which met me half-way that day. A short letter from home 
transmitted vid Samarkand and Osh, and a communication from 
Mr. Macartney based on Russian intelligence, informed me of the 
death of our Queen-Empress. I could see that my two Indian 
followers, to whom I communicated the news, understood, and in 
their own way shared the deep emotion which filled me. There 
were no details to distract attention from the momentous main 
fact, the disappearance from this worldwide scene of the greatest 


ruler England has known since her expansion over the seas began. 
29 


CHAPTER XXIxX 
THE SEARCH FOR HIUEN-TSIANG’S PI-MO 


My eyes were now turned to the south again, where a number 
of archeological tasks still awaited me in the vicinity of the 
inhabited area. First among them was a search for the site of the 
ancient town of Pi-mo. Hiuen-Tsiang had visited it on his way 
from Khotan to Niya, and its probable mention also by Marco Polo 
under the name of ‘Pein’ made me all the more anxious to identify 
its position. The distance and direction which the Chinese pilgrim 
indicated for Pi-mo, viz., three hundred Li (or about sixty miles) 
to the east of the Khotan capital, had long before made me look 
out for the place somewhere to the north-west of Keriya. I was 
hence much pleased when, on my last visit to the latter place, 
T heard from the Amban himself of a ‘Kone-shahr’ said to exist 
in the desert beyond Gulakhma, an oasis on the Khotan road 
some thirty miles west of Keriya. Ram Singh, too, had heard 
about the ruins, and in order to save time I decided to reach them 
now by striking across the desert south-westwards.. 

Of the series of rapid marches by which I endeavoured to effect 
my object, the briefest account must suffice. During the four days 
which saw us returning along the Keriya Darya as fast as camels 
and ponies could moye, I still looked in vain for any sign of 
approaching spring in the vegetation of the riverine jungle. Small 
wonder, considering that after the windy days of Karadong the 
temperature showed a marked fall, down to a minimum of 14° F ahr. 
of frost on the 19th of March. 


434 


CHAP. XXIX.] THROUGH THE SHIVUL SWAMPS 435 


At the familiar shrine of Burhanuddin I picked up en route the 
two guides who, under the Amban’s order, had been sent by the Beg 
of Gulakhma. They looked unusually reticent and stupid, but 
it was too late when we found out that they knew nothing of such 
a route as I wished to take. Too timid to aver their ignorance, 
they thought it safest to guide us further and further south, where 
at least there was no risk from the dreaded Taklamakan. Thus, 
after leaving the left river-bank and crossing a belt of high sand 
dunes, we found ourselves, on the 23rd of March, in a wide area 
of swampy jungle watered from the marshes of Shivul, west of 
Keriya. As the local knowledge of the guides quite gave out here, 
we had great difficulty in extricating our animals from’ the boge 
marsh, treacherously covered with light sand, in which the Shivul 
stream ends. Though there were everywhere the tracks of flocks 
that had grazed here during the winter, we did not succeed in 
finding a single shepherd to help in guiding us. Fortunately 
we came at last upon firmer ground, where the Shivul Darya flowed 
as a limpid stream in a winding but well-defined bed, about fifteen 
feet broad. This helped once more to guide our ‘“‘ouides,”’ and 
ultimately, after a long and tiring march through the dusk, we 
arrived at the solitary little shrine of Arish-Mazar. Though the 
rustic Sheikh living near the saint’s tomb was at first greatly 
alarmed by the arrival of so large a party, fodder was soon 
forthcoming for the tired ponies, and big fires were lit to ouide 
the belated part of the caravan. 

After the experience I had gained of the value of our guides 
there was no alternative but to resign myself to letting them reach 
again familiar ground in the oasis itself before striking off into the 
desert. Accordingly we made our way south-westwards, through 
the sandy jungle in which the water of another marsh-fed stream, 
the Karakir Darya, finally loses itself. The track we followed led 
through a maze of tamarisk-covered sand-cones, standing closer 
together than I had seen them anywhere on the borders of the true 
desert. Unexpectedly we came in their midst upon the unmistak- 
able remains of some ancient settlement, which the few shepherds 


436 SEARCH FOR HIUEN-TSIANG’S PI-MO  [cuap. XxIx. 


whom our Darogha had succeeded in discovering called Aktaz or 
simply ‘ Tatilik’ (ruins). On several small pieces of open ground, 
showing evidence of considerable erosion, pottery fragments abounded 
and foundations of mud-walled houses could be distinguished. But 
the latter had been levelled to within a few inches from the ground, 
and the few small objects, such as a ring of brass picked up by my 
men, gave no clear indication of date. | 
Ultimately we emerged on cultivated land at the village of 
Malakalagan, which had been formed about fifteen years ago 
by people from Domoko, the main oasis due south on the Khotan- 
Keriya route. The reclamation of desert soil going on here was 
a sight as cheering as it was instructive. Small irrigation cuts 
were seen winding along the old tamarisk-covered hillocks of sand 
that had not yet been levelled down, while between them extended 
carefully-fenced fields. Here and there the Toghraks of the desert 
jungle had been spared, particularly near the huts of the settlers. 
But it was clear they would soon disappear in a hopeless minority 
by the side of the avenues of young poplars, Jigda, and other fruit 
trees that were rapidly growing up along all irrigation channels. 
My previous information had clearly indicated the ruined site 
I was in search of as being situated in the vicinity of the Mazar 
of Lachin-Ata. The people of Malakalagan, whom I closely 
questioned, did not deny their knowledge of this popular desert 
shrine, but none of them would acknowledge ever having visited the 
‘Kone-shahr’ near it. Our wanderings of the previous two days 
had left me no illusions as to the capacity of our two worthy guides. 
Yet as better were not to be got and time was getting more than 
eyer precious, I decided to set out with them on the morning of 
March 25th. Old Turdi, after a long absence on mail duty, had just 
joined me from Khotan, and I could rely on the old “ treasure- 
seeker’s”” instinct and experience coming to the help of whatever 
local knowledge the Domoko guides might prove to possess. Turdi 
had brought along two more water-tanks previously left at Khotan, 
and as I took the precaution of having all six tanks filled before the 
start, we were safe from immediate risk. The three days’ Odyssey 


CHAP. XXIX.| DESERTED VILLAGE SITES 437 


which followed, and which is illustrated by the tortuous line 
of route, fully bore out my misgivings. Yet there was interesting 
experience to compensate for the trouble and fatigue. 

The first couple of miles in a north-westerly direction had 
brought us to the limit of the newly irrigated land, when to my 
surprise I came upon unmistakable marks of earlier cultivation 
beyond. Old fields overgrown with tamarisk and thorny scrub 
could be clearly distinguished by the little embankments dividing 
them, as well as by the lines of dry ‘ Ariks’ that once carried water 
to them. My guides explained that these were the fields of ‘old 
Ponak’ village, which had been abandoned “ in their grandfathers’ 
time,” 2.¢., forty or fifty years ago. Passing along a road still 
frequented by the people visiting the cemeteries of the deserted 
villages, I arrived some three miles further north-west at the 
southern end of the area known as ‘old Domoko.’ Here the 
ruins of mud-built dwellings, constructed exactly like the modern 
villages of this tract, seemed to extend, together with the inter- 
spersed orchards and cemeteries, for fully three miles from east to 
west. The mud walls, strengthened by the insertion of vertical 
bundles of Kumush, still often rose 4 to 5 feet above the 
ground, and the massive fireplaces were intact even to a greater 
height. The deserted homesteads had been stripped of all 
materials that could be of use, such as beams, wooden doorposts, &e. ; 
and as scarcely any sand had accumulated about the crumbling 
ruins, their complete disappearance was only a question of time. 

The villagers accompanying me, as well as the people I subse- 
quently examined on my return to the oasis, all agreed in asserting 
that the gradually increasing difficulty of conducting the irrigation 
water sufficiently far had caused the cultivated area of these and 
some other villages of the Begships of Domoko and Gulakhma to 
be shifted as much as six to eight miles further south within the 
memory of living men. Local tradition, in fact, maintained that 
such shifts of the cultivated land, backwards and forwards, had 
occurred repeatedly in the case of these small oases along the road 
from Keriya to Chira. Evidence that cannot be detailed here 


438 SEARCH FOR HIUEN-TSIANG’S PI-MO [cuap. xxix. 


seemed to support the belief that this tradition had some substan- 
tial basis, and J felt inclined to regard the gradual change of levels 
consequent on irrigation deposits as a possible explanation of these 
repeated shifts. It would need a prolonged investigation of local 
conditions, particularly those connected with the supply of irriga- 
tion water, which is here largely dependent on springs, in order to 
arrive at any safe conclusion. But anyhow, there could be no 
doubt that the ruins I saw here were the best illustration of the 
course of decay through which the ‘ Kone-shahrs,’ or Tatis, found 
along the western route to Khotan and on the outskirts of the 
oasis, must be supposed to have passed once. There, too, villages 
were deserted owing to irrigation ceasing from one cause or other ; 
and as they were so much further away from the desert centre than 
the terminal oases of Dandan-Uiliq or the Niya River site, the 
heavy drift-sand could not arrive in time and in sufficient quantity 
to give protection to the ruins. 

For nearly three miles we traversed the desolate remains of 
these village homesteads, but it was not until some miles further 
north that the region of low sand dunes was entered near a little 
wooden tomb, worshipped as the supposed resting-place of a saintly 
associate of Lachin-Ata. The Mazar of the latter was not in view, 
nor could our guides give any clear idea where we should find the 
ancient site previously described as in its vicinity. As we plodded 
on amidst the gradually rising sand dunes, the villagers I had 
taken along for eventual excavations became more communicative. 
They professed never to have seen that site, but they were well 
aware of its legend. 

These same villagers had before shown a very matter-of-fact 
perception of the true cause which had led to the abandonment of 
their old lands. All the greater was my surprise to find that the 
legend they now proceeded to tell me of the ‘ Kone-shahr ’ in the 
desert beyond was in all substantial points the same as the one 
which more than twelve centuries ago Hiuen-Tsiang had heard at 
Pi-mo of the sand-buried city of Ho-lo-lo-kia, and which has been 
briefly quoted already in my account of Karadong. A holy man 


CHAP. XXIX. | LEGEND OF HO-LO-LO-KIA 439 


who had reproved the wicked inhabitants for certain offences, was 
treated by them with contempt. He thereupon cursed the town 
and foretold its approaching destruction. While they still mocked 
at his prophecy, sand began to rain from the skies and continued 
for seven days and nights until the whole of the buildings were 
buried. Only seven pious people who had shown respect for the 
holy one managed to save their lives, through a curious device 
which varies from Hiuen-Tsiang’s story. The seven wise men are 
supposed to have clung to ropes fixed to a high pole after the 
fashion of a merry-go-round. Being whirled round and round by 
the raging storm they rose steadily higher above the eround while 
the sand accumulated, and thus escaped. 

Similar stories, no doubt, are current throughout Turkestan of 
ruins buried in the Taklamakan; but it was of particular interest 
to note how the continuity of local tradition had here transferred 
the legend which Hiuen-Tsiang heard at Pi-mo of a still earlier 
site, to the remains of Pimo itself. For these I could safely recog- 
nise in the extensive débris-covered area, a portion of which we 
managed to trace in the course of the following day. The previous 
evening our luckless guides had dragged us aimlessly far out into 
the desert, until at last the weariness of animals and men and the 
difficulty of getting the caravan in the darkness over the rising 
dunes had forced us to pitch camp. During the night one of the 
guides deserted, having probably got bewildered by his own display 
of deficient local sense. The other, however, a timid young fellow 
whom Turdi, my desert factotum, kept under his eye and 
encouraged by advice drawn from his own lifelong ‘ treasure- 
seeking ” experience, recovered his bearings, and setting out before 
daybreak succeeded in finding the ruined area far away to the 
south-west. 

Uzun-tati—‘‘ the distant Tati,” as local tradition appropriately 
designates this site—proved to consist of several extensive patches 
of ground, one nearly half a mile square, thickly covered with pot- 
tery fragments and other small débris. Owing to far-advanced 
erosion and the destruction dealt by “‘treasure-seekers,”’ the remains 


440 SEARCH FOR HIUEN-TSIANG’S PI-MO [cnap. xxix. 


of mud-built houses were too much decayed to permit of excavation 
or to offer clear indications as to their date. Yet such chrono- 
logical evidence was needed before the identification of this site 
with Hiuen-Tsiang’s Pi-mo, suggested as it was by every topo- 
graphical consideration, could be definitely accepted. Pi-mo was 
undoubtedly, as already recognised by Sir Henry Yule, the same 
place as ‘ Pein,’ which Marco Polo visited on his journey east of 
Khotan, and must thus have remained inhabited up to the close 
of the thirteenth century. The appearance of the bits of pottery, 
glass, china, small objects of brass and stone, &c., which turned up 
among the plentiful débris of Uzun-tati, entirely favoured this 
assumption. But it was only when myself picking up a Chinese 
copper piece of the Southern Sung dynasty (a.p. 1127-1278), that 
I secured conclusive proof that the site had been occupied up to 
the Middle Ages. 

Our guides had previously spoken of a second ‘ Kone-shahr’ 
which, from some supposed tombs of saints, they called Ulugh- 
Ziarat (‘the shrine of the holy ones”). Though these remains 
were known to them as adjoining Uzun-tati, and in the end proved 
to be only about three miles distant in a direct line to the south-east 
it took us nearly two days and very tiring marches and counter- 
marches in the sand, over an aggregate distance of some twenty-five 
miles, before this second site was discovered. Less extensive than 
Uzun-tati, it displayed débris manifestly of the same period. In 
addition I found not far from it the comparatively well-preserved 
remains of a small fort, built in the form of an oval of about 480 by 
348 feet. The wall of stamped clay was some 11 feet thick at the 
base and, including the parapet, rose originally to a height of about 
144 feet. No remains of any kind were found in the interior of 
this circumvallation, or around it, and consequently I was unable 
to form any definite opinion as to its date. 

These days in the desert had convincingly demonstrated the 
serious difficulties which must always attend a search for scanty 
ruins hidden away among deceptive sand dunes if made without 
adequate guidance. The rapidly increasing heat and glare—on the 


CHAP. XXIx. | REMAINS AT UZUN-TATI 441 


27th and 28th of March the air about midday was 88° Fahr. in 
the shade, though the minimum thermometer had for the 
corresponding nights still registered 28° and 30° Fahr.—rendered 
tramps through the sand very trying, and made us realise the 
limitations of the water supply carried in the tanks. Hence I felt 
as glad as my men when the satisfactory conclusion of my task 
allowed me to turn back southward to the inhabited area. Passing 
en route the desolate little shrine of Lachin-Ata and then the 
hamlet of ‘New Ponak’ on the fringe of the desert, I reached on 
the 29th of March the oasis of Gulakhma. There for the first time 
I caught sight of the young green of cultivated fields and orchards. 

Gulakhma, which counts about 900 houses in its several villages 
and with the adjoining Begship of Domoko is undoubtedly the 
modern representative of the Pi-mo oasis, might have tempted me to 
give my caravan the short rest it had amply earned. But time 
would not permit. So on the 30th of March I sent on the main 
part of my camp under Ram Singh to reach Khotan by easy stages, 
while I myself with the minimum of impedimenta hurried back to 
Keriya to bid farewell personally to its kindly Amban. My rapid 
marches were made pleasant by noticing on all sides exuberant 
signs of spring, which seemed to have come over the land with 
surprising rapidity. Wherever the road passed through cultivated 
tracts the poplars and willows lining it showed plentiful young 
leaves in delicate bluish-green tints. At Yaqa-Langar, where I 
passed a night in the garden of a half-ruined Sarai built by Niaz 
Hakim Beg, my tent was pitched under blossoming plum-trees. 
The mild evening air and the picturesque neglect of the garden 
strangely recalled the surroundings of many a pleasant camp in the 
Punjab. 

I found Keriya looking bright and cheerful in its setting of 
sprouting trees, and its whole population en féte, celebrating the 
festival known to the Muhammadans of India as the ‘Bakri-Id.’ 
Singing and feasting went all round the ‘ Topbashi’s’ garden 
where I camped. On the following morning, April 1st, I sent my 
last presents to Huang-Daloi, including a number of personal 


442 SEARCH FOR HIUEN-TSIANG’S PI-MO  [cnHap. xxix. 


souvenirs, and then paid my farewell visit to his Yamen. In the 
course of our long confabulation I did not fail to emphasise the 
excellent services of Ibrahim, our energetic Darogha. So the Amban 
publicly lauded him and promised to reward him with a comfortable 
berth and good emoluments. It was already well known at Keriya 
that Pan-Darin on my recommendation had provided Islam Beg, 
for similar good services in the Khotan district, with a fat Begship 
at Kara-kash, and Huang-Daloi might well feel encouraged to 


BOYS AND GIRLS AT KERIYA, IN HOLIDAY DRESS. 


follow the lead of his pious colleague. I myself felt pained by the 
thought of how little it was in my power to return the Amban’s 
never-failing help with some substantial service, and how scanty the 
hope was of ever seeing his kindly face again. Yet when we ex- 
changed our final goodbye outside my little camping-ground he 
seemed to realise the lasting gratitude I should retain for him and 
my sincere regret at the parting. 

On the 2nd of April I started back to Khotan by forced marches. 


cHap, xxix.] FAREWELL VISIT TO KERIYA 443 


The first brought me to Karakir Langar, a deserted roadside Bazar 
east of the Domoko oasis, where a curious illustration offered itself 
of the changes affecting cultivation in this tract. About ten years 
previously, I was told, abundant springs had unexpectedly appeared 
in the sandy jungle some miles to the south, fed, no doubt, by the 
Nura and other hill streams which higher up lose themselves on the 
pebble ‘ Sai,’ that glacis of the mountains. The water supplied by 
these springs was so ample that land sufficient for 700 to 800 
households has since been brought under cultivation in the desert 
tract to the north of Karakir Langar, with the result that the 
wayfarers’ custom has been completely transferred to the new village 
of Achma. My second day’s ride was to Chira, a large oasis 
counting some 8,500 households, and receiving its water from the 
river that comes from Hasa, and is fed by the glaciers north and 
north-east of the great Muztagh. My night’s halt here was rendered 
enjoyable by the charming camping-place I discovered in a terraced 
orchard, where the white blossoms of the plum-tree (* uruk ’) covered 
the ground like fresh snow, while the air was scented with their 
perfume. 

But already on the following morning we had to face a strong 
dust-storm blowing from the west, while we covered the forty odd 
miles across the dreary plain of sand and pebbles to the oasis of 
Sampula. The thick haze which enveloped us all day made me 
thankful for the guidance afforded by the rows of poles marking the 
road. Sampula, or Lop as itis also called from its chief village, 
is a thickly populated tract still included in the Ambanship of 
Keriya, though watered chiefly by canals from the Yurung-kash or 
Khotan River. I was struck by the thriving look of its villages, due 
largely to the flourishing carpet industry which is centred here. 
Its products, though unfortunately debased by the use of aniline 
dyes, are still much prized throughout Turkestan. There is little 
doubt that the manufacture of these famous silk carpets, and some 
other local industries connected with Khotan, are an inheritance 


from ancient days. 
The fourth and last day of my journey to Khotan was utilised 


did SEARCH FOR HIUEN-TSIANG’S PI-MO  [cwap. xxrx. 


for a visit to the extensive débris area spreading on the outskirts of 
the desert beyond Hanguya, the northernmost large village of 
Sampula. It was a typical ‘ Tati,’ just as Turdi’s report had led 
me to expect, covering several square miles. Thanks to his expert 
guidance, I had no difficulty in tracing in the midst of it the much- 
decayed remains of a Stupa, known to the people of Hanguya as 
the Arka-kuduk Tim. The ruin itself showed no feature of special 
interest, but it was curious to note that, owing to deep erosion of 
the surrounding ground, the remains of the Stupa now stand on an 
isolated loess bank fully 20 feet high. In reality the lowest 


VILLAGE CHILDREN, KERIYA. 


course of the brickwork marked the original level, and the mound 
on which it now appeared to be raised was but a witness or 
“« Zeuge ’—to use the geologist’s term—indicating the remarkable 
depth to which the slow excavation of the loess soil had been 
carried by the force of the winds. Ancient coins, seals, and other 
small objects are frequently picked up on this site, and the specimens 
I acquired on the spot from one of Turdi’s associates were as clear 
a proof of its antiquity as the extent of erosion. 

The dreary expanse of the Tati looked doubly doleful in the 
yellow dust haze, and I felt quite relieved when in the evening, 
after a long ride over much sandy waste interspersed with patches 


CHAP, XxIx.] RETURN TO KHOTAN ENVIRONS 445 


of young cultivation, I reached the edge of the Yurung-kash canton. 
There faithful Islam Beg, with the emblems of his new dignity, 
Badruddin Khan, the Afghan Aksakal, and a posse of local Begs 
and Yuzbashis were waiting to give me a cheerful welcome on my 
return to Khotan territory. Joined thus by old friends and an 
imposing escort, I rode on through shady lanes where the scent of 
the fruit trees and weeping willows, now in full bloom, was almost 
overpowering. When I reached my re-united camp in a pleasant 
old garden near the Madrasah of Yurung-kash town, ‘ Yolchi 
Beg’ gave vent to his joyful feelings by the most sonorous of 
barks. 


EXCAVATIONS PROCEEDING ALONG SOUTH-EAST WALL OF RAWAK STUPA COURT. 


CHAPTER XXX 


AK-SIPIL AND THE SCULPTURES OF THE RAWAK STUPA 


On the 6th of April I halted in Yurung-kash, where fresh supplies 
and labourers had to be secured, and many repairs to be effected in 
our equipment. Increasing heat by day and recurring dust storms 
warned me that the season was close at hand when work in the 
desert would become impossible. Instead of taking the rest we all 
by this time felt much in need of, I hastened to set out for the 
ancient sites which still remained to be explored in the desert 
north-east of Khotan. So after discharging Ibrahim Akhun, our 
worthy Darogha, with a liberal reward in glittering gold roubles for 
himself and an ample supply of specially desired medicines for his 
Amban, the caravan was set in march again on the morning of 
April 7th. 


The ruined site known to treasure-seekers as Ak-sipil (‘‘ the 
446 


CHAP. xXx. | MARCH TO AK-SIPIL 447 


White. Walls ’’), and situated among high sand dunes, at a distance 
of nearly fifteen miles from the right bank of the Yurung-kash 
opposite Khotan, was my next objective. On the march, and close 
to the edge of the cultivated area, I examined with interest the site 
known as Tam-6ghil, from an adjoining small hamlet, where ancient 
‘“ culture-strata,” yielding some leaf-gold, besides old coins, terra- 
cottas, &c., are worked under exactly the same conditions as those 
described at Yotkan. The extent of the excavations is, however, 
far more limited, as the available water supply is scanty and the 
proceeds are less remunerative. Here, too, the excavations, which 
now employ about a dozen people for one and a half to two months 
in the year, are said to have been started by the accidental discovery 
of gold in a small ‘ Yar’ that had formed about twenty years ago 
through the overflow of an irrigation channel. I noticed that the 
banks of fertile earth overlying the ancient ‘ culture-stratum ”’ to 
a height of 10 to 18 feet, silt deposits as I take it, showed 
here and there distinct traces of stratification. Considering the 
short distance, less than three miles, which separates this site from 
the present right bank of Yurung-kash, it appeared to me possible 
that these slight layers, 1 to 1} inches thick, may, perhaps, be due 
to exceptional floods from the river. The fertile soil excavated is 
used by the villagers to improve gravelly fields in the vicinity. 

As soon as we had passed the edge of the cultivated area, frag- 
ments of ancient pottery appeared on the bare loess, cropping up 
also in large patches between the low dunes over which our march 
led for the next four miles. There was ample evidence that the 
belt of villages and fields had extended much further to the north 
in ancient times. Then the dunes grew remarkably steep and high, 
up to 60 feet and more, the coarse, heavy sand unmistakably 
showing its origin from the gravel deposits of the river. Here the 
uniform direction of the dunes was also clearly marked, being 
N.N.W. to S.S.E. After five miles of these difficult dunes we 
reached open and in places much eroded ground near Ak-sipil, 
where I thought I could distinguish traces of little embankments 
dividing ancient fields, and of distributing ‘ Ariks’ along them. 


448 SCULPTURES OF RAWAK STUPA [CHAP, XXX. 


At Ak-sipil the most conspicuous remains are ruined portions of 
the rampart and parapet of an ancient fort. They have been visited 
before by several European travellers, and as some reliable data 
concerning them have been published by M. Grenard from M. 
Dutreuil de Rhins’ notes, the briefest notice will suffice. The 
exact survey made by me showed that the extant ruins form a 
segment, about 860 feet long, of a circular wall which must have 
originally enclosed an area about 1,000 feet in diameter. Here, as 
at Endere, the lower portion of the circumvallation consisted of a 
rampart of hard stamped clay, rising about 11 feet above the 
original surface outside, which is still clearly distinguishable in 
places free of sand and uneroded. The rampart is surmounted by 
a parapet, 8 feet thick, which, by the large size of its sun-dried 
but fairly hard bricks (about 20 by 15 by 4 inches on the average), 
as well as by its solid construction, suggests considerable antiquity. 
The parapet, where in fair preservation, showed loopholes arranged 
in two uniform levels, one 16 inches, the other 5 feet above the 
base, but at irregular intervals. At two points of the extant 
segment the parapet is strengthened by solid brick platforms 
projecting about 8 feet on either side, which were provided with 
stairs, and probably served as watch-towers. 

With the exception of the small segment facing due north, the 
circumvallation of this ancient fort, together with any buildings the 
interior might have once contained, has disappeared completely 
owing to erosion. The débris which covers the open ground 
between the low dunes for some distance around, has furnished to 
native ‘‘ treasure-seekers’’ Chinese coins of the Han period, and 
plentiful small remains, such as seals, &c. All those acquired by 
me point to an early abandonment of this site. 

A low mound, some 13 miles south-west,to which Turdi conducted 
me, proved on excavation to mark the position of an ancient temple. 
Though the structure itself had been completely destroyed, no 
doubt through the operations of ‘‘ treasure-seekers,”’ there turned 
up among the loose débris of plaster and decomposed timber a 
considerable quantity of small relievo fragments in stucco of 


CHAP. xxx.| DISCOVERY OF RAWAK STUPA . 449 


remarkable hardness. These fragments, among which pieces 
of draped relievo figures, as well as of decorative plaques are 
largely represented, display a style of modelling and a technical 
execution far superior to the stucco work of the Dandan-Uiliq and 
Endere temples, and recalling the best products of Grieco-Buddhist 
sculpture in Gandhara. A feature as remarkable as the hardness 
of these small stucco relievos is their cracked and fissured surface, 
which in places looks as if scorched. The assumption that these 
stucco pieces received their present appearance in a fire that con- 
sumed the temple naturally suggests itself. But whether this 
accidental burning would ‘also account for their exceptional hard- 
ness is a question still to be settled by a ceramic expert. ‘‘ Trea- 
sure-seekers’’ call this place ‘ Kighillik,’ from a large mound 
mainly composed of dry manure (‘ kighik’) that rises quite close 
to the remains just mentioned. This huge refuse-heap, which 
measures, as far as exposed, some 70 by 50 feet, with a depth of at 
least 16 feet, has not escaped the attention of treasure-seckers. 
The regular galleries they have tunnelled through it enabled me to 
ascertain with comparative ease that its contents, besides manure 
(apparently horse-dung), were only small bits of bone, charcoal 
and fuel. 

On the 10th of April I left Ak-sipil, and marching due north 
for about fourteen miles, partly over dunes of coarse grey sand, 
partly along a pebble-covered ‘Sai’ clearly recognisable as an 
ancient river-bed, arrived in the evening at the ruins called ‘ Rawak ” 
(‘‘ High Mansion ’’) by Turdi and the men of his craft. Here an 
unexpected and most gratifying discovery awaited me. Our honest 
old guide had spoken only of “an old house” to be seen there 
half buried in the sand, but in reality the first glimpse showed a 
large Stupa with its enclosing quadrangle, by far the most imposing 
structure I had seen among the extant ruins of the Khotan region. 
Large dunes of coarse sand, rising over 25 feet in height, covered 
the quadrangle and part of the massive square base of the Stupa on 
the north-west and north-east faces. But towards the south the drift- 


sand was lower, and there great portions of the Stupa base, as well as 
30 ; 


450 SCULPTURES OF RAWAK STUPA [CHAP, XXX. 


the lines of masonry marking the quadrangular enclosure of the Stupa 
court, could be readily made out. Near the south corner of the 
enclosing wall fragments of the heads of colossal stucco statues, 
the spoil of casual diggings by ‘“ treasure-seekers,’’ were lying on 
the surface. I realised at once that there was scope here for 


RAWAK STUPA, SEEN FROM SOUTH CORNER OF COURT, 


extensive excavations, and accordingly lost no time in sending back 
urgent orders for a reinforcement of labourers. 

Fortunately the position of the ruin, within a day’s march of the 
oasis, enabled me to secure a large number of willing workers from 
the nearest villages of the Jiya tract. A favourable factor of still 
greater importance was the relative ease with which the question of 
water supply for such a number of men was solved. For though 
the sand dunes surrounding us looked more formidable than at any 
ancient site previously explored, it was possible to dig a well ina 


CHAP. Xxx.| SUCCESSION OF SAND-STORMS 451 


depression within two miles of the Stupa, and there the labourers’ 
camp was conveniently established. A look at the map shows that 
the distance from the Rawak site to the bank of the Yurung-kash is 
only about seven miles. In fact, to this comparative proximity of 
the present river-bed were due both the forbidding height of the 
dunes and the slight depth of subsoil water. 

The season of Burans had now fully set in, and the gales that 
were blowing daily, though from different quarters and of varying 
degrees of violence, carried along with them a spray of light sand 
that permeated everything. I noticed the frequency with which 
the wind would shift round to almost opposite directions on 
_ Successive days, sometimes even between morning and evening— 
a feature of Burans well known to all natives living near the 
Taklamakan and observed also by former travellers. To the 
discomfort which the constant drifting of sand caused, and which 
we naturally felt in a still more irritating fashion while engaged in 
excavation, was added the trying sensation of glare and heat all 
through the daytime. The sun beat down with remarkable 
intensity through the yellowish dust-haze, and the reflection of its 
rays by every glittering particle of sand made the heat appear 
far greater than it really was. The quick radiation that set in as 
soon as the sun had gone down caused rapid and striking variations 
in the temperature at different portions of the day, and I have little 
doubt that the agues and fevers, from which all my own followers 
began to suffer after our start from Yurung-kash, were mainly brought 
on by these sudden changes. It was impossible for me to escape 
exposure to these adverse atmospheric influences; but luckily the 
chills I caught freely could be kept in check by liberal doses of 
quinine until my work at these fascinating ruins was done. 

The excavations, which I commenced on the morning of the 
11th of April in the inner south corner of the quadrangle, soon 
revealed evidence that the enclosing wall had been adorned with 
whole rows of colossal statues in stucco. Those on the inside face 
of the wall could still be expected to be in a fair state of preserva- 
tion owing to the depth of the sand, which was in no place less 


452 SCULPTURES OF RAWAK STUPA [CHAP, XXX. 


than 7 feet, greatly increasing towards the west and east corners. 
But I realised that great masses of sand would have to be shifted 
before these sculptures could be systematically unearthed and 
examined in safety. For the heavy earthwork implied by this task | 
it was necessary to await the arrival of the reinforcements already 
summoned. But in the meantime I was able to utilise the dozen 
labourers already at hand for such clearings as the preliminary 
survey of the structural remains demanded. 

The result of this survey showed that the Stupa court formed a 
great quadrangle 164 feet long from north-west to south-east, and 
143 feet broad. It was enclosed bya solidly built wall of sun-dried 
bricks, a little over 3 feet thick, and rising to a height of over 11 feet at 
the exposed south corner of the court, but once probably higher. The 
centre of the quadrangle is occupied by the imposing Stupa base, 
which rises in two stories to a height of 20 feet above the floor. 
The photograph on p. 450 shows it as seen from the inner south 
corner of the court, before any clearing. Owing to bold projections 
on each face, originally supporting well-proportioned flights of 
steps, the ground plan of the base showed the shape of a sym- 
metrically developed cross, each of the four arms of which extended 
to 50 feet on the lowest level. 

The diameter of the Stupa dome, which was raised on a pro- 
jecting circular drum and constructed like the rest of the structure 
of sun-dried bricks, measured a little over 32 feet. It seems to 
have had an inner chamber about 74 feet in diameter, but this 
could not be exactly determined, as a large cutting had been made 
into the dome from the west. The top of the Stupa had also been 
broken long ago, the extant masonry reaching to a height of 33 feet 
above the level of the court. The dome had probably always been 
exposed to the attacks of ‘‘ treasure-seekers”’ as well as to erosion, and 
the destruction thus caused made it quite impossible to determine 
its original height. The broad flight of steps which occupied the 
centre of each of the four faces of the base, and led up without a 
break from the court to the foot of the dome, must have been an 
imposing feature. The one on the south-east side, which faces the 


CHAP. Xxx.]|. EXCAVATIONS IN STUPA COURT 453 


entrance gate of the quadrangle, could alone be cleared. The 
portions of the base flanking this flight of steps proved to be coated 
with a thick layer of white stucco which probably once covered the 
whole of the Stupa. It was here, sticking to the plaster under a 
bold moulding at the foot of the base, that I discovered four well- 
preserved copper-pieces of the Han period showing very little wear. 
Like subsequent finds of such coins, they had manifestly been 
deposited as votive: offerings, and furnished me with the first 
indication of the probable age of the structure. 

The great archwological interest of the ruins, however, does not 
centre so much in the Stupa as in the rich series of relievo 
sculptures decorating the walls of the Stupa court. These were 
brought to light by the systematic excavations which I commenced 
as soon as the bands of labourers, quickly collected and despatched 
by the Beg of Yurung-kash, had joined my camp in the early 
morning of the 12th of April. In order to avoid the risks of 
immediate damage to the friable stucco of the sculptures, and to get 
sufficient room for photographing them, it was necessary to open 
broad trenches at some little distance from the walls and then to 
proceed towards the latter, carefully clearing out the sand. Com- 
mencing at the inner south corner, the work of excavation was 
gradually extended along the south-west and south-east walls up to 
the furthermost points which the high dunes rising over the east 
and west corners permitted to be cleared. The photograph, p. 446, 
shows a portion of the south-east wall with the trenches in course 
of excavation, along both its sides, and also helps to convey an 
impression of the mighty ridges of sand immediately surrounding 
the ruins. 

As the work of clearing proceeded, I soon recognised that the 
main adornment of the walls, both towards the court and outside, 
consisted throughout of rows of colossal statues in stucco. All the 
large relievos represented Buddhas or Bodhisattvas, but from the 
varying attitudes a number of groups could be distinguished, 
arranged apparently on a more or less symmetrical plan. Between 
the colossal images at frequent intervals were smaller relievo repre- 


‘NOILVAVOXA WHLAY “LYA0O VdATS MVMVY JO UANWOO HENOS NI ‘vHaand aaLyas HIIM SHALVLS Tyssotoo 


CHAP. xxx.] CLEARING OF COLOSSAL STATUES 455 


sentations of attendant deities and saints. In numerous instances 
the walls were further decorated with elaborate plaques of stucco 
forming halos above and around the more important figures, as well 
as with small paintings in fresco. The whole of the relievo work 
had originally been coloured, but the layers of paint had peeled off 
except where well protected in drapery folds, &¢. Thus the greatest 
portions of the stucco images presented themselves in their terra- 
cotta ground colour. 

I found from the first that the excavation of this wealth of 
statuary was attended with serious difficulty. Owing probably to 
the moisture rising from the neighbourhood of subsoil water, the 
strong wooden framework which once supported internally the 
masses of stucco and fastened them to beams let into the wall 
behind, had completely rotted away. The cavities left by the 
beams, which were evidently about 5 inches square, and fixed at a 
uniform height of 8 feet above the ground, can clearly be seen in 
the photographs, pp. 454, 461, 462, while the round holes visible in 
the arms of the colossal statues (see pp. 454, 456) indicate the 
position once occupied by portions of the internal framework. 

Deprived of this support, the heavy stucco images threatened to 
collapse when the protecting sand was being removed. The Burans 
greatly added to this risk. They carried away the fine sand which 
had filled the interstices between the statues and the wall behind, 
and thus placed the friable masses of stucco in danger of sliding 
down through their own weight to immediate destruction. 
Experience soon showed me that these risks could be obviated only 
by extreme care in clearing the relievos and by covering up again 
their lowest portions as soon as they had been photographed. 
Even so damage could not altogether be prevented. In some 
instances it was necessary to secure the upper portions of statues 
still intact by means of ropes held by my men, even during the few 
minutes required to obtain photographs. Our procedure in these 
critical cases is illustrated by the view on p. 456. It shows some 
of the minor statues excavated on the inner side of the south-west 
wall being thus held, and also helps to mark the true size of 


456 SCULPTURES OF RAWAK STUPA [ CHAP. XXX. 


the colossal image seen to the extreme right by comparison with 
the labourers. 

The conditions here briefly indicated, which rendered the 
excavation work so difficult and risky, are also a_ sufficient 
explanation why most of the colossal statues were found without 


RELIEVO STATUES OF RAWAK STUPA COURT, SOUTH-WEST WALL, AFTER EXCAVATION. 


their heads. Their upper portions, just like the top segments 
of the great halo seen on the left of the photograph reproduced 
on p. 454, had necessarily been left much longer without the pro- 
tecting cover of sand, and had accordingly fallen away from the 
wall that once supported them. The heads of the smaller images 


CHAP. XXX, | RISKS OF EXCAVATION 457 


were almost invariably found intact. I may here note that 
among all the sculptural decoration of the Stupa court I failed 
to trace any evidence of wilful destruction by human agency, as 
distinguished from such casual damage as the spasmodic burrow- 
ings of ‘treasure-seekers ”’ may have caused at some points of the 
more exposed outer face of the enclosing wall. This observation 
lends support to the belief, justified by other evidence, that this 
great shrine was already long deserted and the ruins of its court 
covered up by the time when Islam finally annexed Khotan. 

It is possible that originally a wooden gallery or some similar 
structure projecting from the top of the enclosing wall offered 
shelter to the sculptures. But this, if it really existed, must have 
been systematically removed even before the sand had completely 
invaded the Stupa court, for only in one place near the inner south- 
east face did my excavations bring to light some pieces of timber, 
about 4 inches thick, that might have served for such a structure. 
Considering how comparatively expensive an article building timber 
is to this day in the immediate vicinity of a large Turkestan town, 
we could scarcely be surprised at the early removal of this, the most 
useful material the deserted shrine could offer. 

The total number of individual relievos of large size, which were 
unearthed along the cleared portions of the south-west and south- 
east walls, amounted to ninety-one. In addition to these the finds 
included many small relievos forming part of halos, &c., or deposited 
as ex-votos before the main images. The position of all statues 
was carefully shown in the ground-plan and a detailed description 
of every piece of sculpture, with exact measurements, duly recorded. 
In addition, I obtained a complete series of photographs of what- 
ever sculptural work appeared on the excavated wall faces, the 
ageregate length of which amounted in the end to more than 300 
feet. It was no easy task to collect all these records with the 
needful accuracy while directing the successive stages of the exca- 
vation in atmospheric conditions trying alike to eyes, throat, and 
lungs. Though Ram Singh and Turdi rendered, each in his own 
way, very intelligent assistance, I had myself to remain in the 


‘NOILVAVOXA FO ASunoO NI ‘nwnA0O VdaATS MVYAVH @O 


TIVM 


LSVa-HL10S 


WaLAO 


O SAWMALMdTAOS OARITAY 


458 


CHAP. XXX. ] WEALTH OF STATUARY 459 


trenches practically from sunrise until nightfall. I could judge 
from the dust-laden look of the men what an appearance I pre- 
sented during those days. Needless to say that the notebook 
used at this site feels gritty with sand to this day ! 

It is impossible to attempt here a description of the mass of 
interesting materials which these excavations have yielded for the 
study of the ancient sculptural art of Khotan. While such a task 
must properly be reserved for the scientific Report on my explora- 
tions, it will be useful to offer brief notes on those relievos which 
are represented in the accompanying illustrations. Among the 
sculptural remains 
occupying the inner 
south-west wall nearest 
to the south corner, 
shown on p. 454, and 
partly reproduced also 
in the gravure of the 
frontispiece, the well- 
modelled figure of the 
seated Buddha and the 
elaborate halo of the 
larger standing image 
behind, filled with 
representations of 
teaching Bodhisattvas 
or Arhats, deserve 
special attention. The 
three-feet measure 
placed in front of the 
seated image, and 
visible also in the other 
photographs, indicates 
the scale of the sculp- 


tures. The statue of 
RELIEVO STATUE OF BODHISATTVA (R. IV.), ON SOUTH- : ‘ : 
WEST WALL, RAWAK STUPA COURT. a richly -robed Bodhi- 


460 SCULPTURES OF RAWAK STUPA [CHAP. XXX. 


sattva, life-size, seen on p. 459, is of interest both on account 
of the elaborate drapery shown in the lower garment and of the 
carefully indicated strings of jewels which cover the breast and 
arms. Both in style and arrangement these jewels bear the closest 
resemblance to those displayed by many Greco-Buddhist sculptures 
from the ruined Stupas and monasteries of the north-west frontier 
of India. 

On the relievos of the outer south-east wall, which the photo- 
graph, p. 458, represents just as they were found in the course 
of excavation, the careful execution of rich drapery and the 
elegant .proportions of the hands and heads may be particularly 
noticed. The photograph opposite shows the grouping of 
colossal statues on the outer walls of the south corner. The 
images on the extreme right, which still reached with their 
shoulders to a height of 8 feet, could not be completely cleared of 
sand, as the weight of the intact upper portions made a collapse 
imminent if the support of the mass of sand that enveloped the 
lower limbs were removed. The remains in the foreground belong 
to a kind of outer passage wall, decorated on both sides, which 
appears to have been added at this corner only. The relievos of 
this apex-shaped screen, which perhaps represents a later embel- 
lishment of the Stupa court, showed remarkably delicate work in 
the plaques of the halos, but had unfortunately suffered much 
damage owing to the thinness of the wall and its exposed position. 
The way in which small detached stucco representations of Buddha, 
in the attitude of teaching or meditation, mostly replicas, were 
found deposited at the feet of the larger images is illustrated by 
the view, p. 462, showing torsos of colossal statues along the inner 
south-east wall. 

The entrance gate to the Stupa court leading through this wall 
was flanked on either side by two life-sized statues, which inter- 
ested me greatly as the only figures found of a quasi-secular 
character. Though the upper portions of their bodies had broken 
away and were recovered only in fragments, there can be no doubt 
as to their representing the ‘ Dyarapalas,’ or “‘ Guardians of the 


Nits 60 koje) 


VdOs 


MVAMVY 


10 YWANWOO HLAOS 


40 STIVM UALLAO 


NO SHOLVIS TYSSO'TOO 


461 


462 SCULPTURES OF RAWAK STUPA [CHAP. XXX. 


5) 


gates,’ which Indian convention places at the entrances of all 
assemblies whether real or mythical. It is probable that the 
guardians of the Rawak Stupa court, like those sculptured at the 
approaches to many a sacred Buddhist shrine in India, were meant 
for Yakshas, a category of attendant divinities. But Buddhist 
iconography invariably gave to these a human appearance, and it 


TORSOS OF COLOSSAL STATUES ALONG INNER SOUTH-EAST WALL. 


was manifest that the figures here unearthed exhibit the customary 
dress of the period and of the country. The boots seen on the feet 
of the two guardians which stood inside the gate to the proper right 
(see p. 463) were wide at the top and showed remains of dark red 
colouring, with an ornamental border on their brim. Into them 
were tucked bulging trousers, hidden for the greater part by two 


CHAP. XXX. | A QUAINT EX-VOTO 463 


large coats hanging down from the waist, one above the other. 
The bands of embroidery running along the hems of the coats 
showed elaborate patterns with small circulets and crochets. These, 
as well as other details of ancient millinery, such as plaits, frills, 
&e., can still readily be made out in the original photographs. 
Want of space does not permit further details about other 
remarkable pieces of statuary. But I may briefly mention the 


TORSOS OF STATUES (DVARAPALAS) AT GATE OF RAWAK STUPA. COURT. 


discovery of remains of gold-leaf stuck originally in small square 
patches to the left knee of the colossal image which is seén on the 
extreme left of the photograph above. I could not have wished 
for a better illustration of the quaint custom which Hiuen-Tsiang 
records of a miracle-working Buddha figure of colossal size he saw 
at Pi-mo. ‘‘ Those who have any disease, according to the part 
affected, cover the corresponding place on the statue with gold-leat, 


464 SCULPTURES OF RAWAK STUPA [CHAP. XXX. 


BUDDHA OR BODHISATTVA, ORIGINALLY PAINTED, 


STUCCO HEAD OF SMALL 
FROM RAWAK STUPA COURT. 
People who address prayers to it 


and forthwith they are healed. 
From the 


with a sincere heart mostly obtain their wishes.” 
number of gold-leaf plasters of which the marks remain on this 
Rawak image, it would seem as if it had enjoyed particular fame for 


healing power in affections of the knee. 


CHAP. xxx.] AFFINITY TO GRA&CO-BUDDHIST ART 465 


But more important and fascinating than any such details was 
the very close affinity in style and most details of execution which 
every single find revealed with the so-called Greeco-Buddhist seulp- 
tures of the Peshawar valley and the neighbouring region. Whether ’ 
that sculptural art, mainly of classical origin, had been brought 
direct from the Indus or from Bactria, there can be no further 
doubt, in view of these discoveries, that at an early date it found a 
true home and flourished in Khotan. The close study of this 
wealth of sculpture is a task of great historical and artistic interest. 
I hope that it will be possible to facilitate it by the publication of 
adequate reproductions of all my photographs. 

Our data for the chronology of Greeco-Buddhist art in India are 
as yet too scanty to permit any safe conclusion as to the date of the 
Rawak relievos. No epigraphical finds of any kind were made in 
that part of the ruins which could be cleared, but I was fortunate 
enough to secure in situ numismatic evidence of distinct value. 
While cleaning the pedestals of various statues along different por- 
tions of the enclosure as well as while examining the wall where 
the wooden gate had once been fixed, we came again and again 
upon Chinese copper coins bearing the ‘ Wu-tchu ’ symbols and 
belonging to issues of the Han dynasty, just like the coins I had 
discovered below mouldings at the foot of the great Stupa. These 
coins were invariably found within small cavities or interstices of 
the plaster or brickwork, into which they must have been slipped 
as votive offerings. Subsequently, when a detached base only eight 
feet square, probably once surmounted by a small votive Stupa, was 
excavated near the inner south corner of the quadrangle, many 
more coins of the same type came to light between the masonry. of 
the base and a much-decayed wooden boarding which encased it. 

With this discovery the total number of such coins rose to close 
on a hundred. Most of them are in good preservation and do not 
show any marks of long circulation. Only current coins are likely 
to have been used for such humble votive gifts, and as no finds of a 
later date were made, there is good reason to believe that the latest 


known date of these issues marks the lowest chronological limit for 
31 


466 SCULPTURES OF RAWAK STUPA [CHAP. XXX. 


the Rawak sculptures. The rule of the Later Han dynasty extended 
over the period 25-220 a.p., but the issue of some of its coin-types 
appears to have continued to the close of the fourth century. So 
far as minor antiquarian indications, derived from the construction, 
the materials, &c., of the ruined Stupa and its adornments, permit 
us to judge at present, the date of its erection may well fall near the 
period to which the ruins of the ancient settlement beyond Imam 
Jafar Sadik have proved to belong. 

I soon realised with regret that, owing to the extremely friable 
condition of the stucco and the difficulties of transport, the removal 
of the larger relievos was impracticable. Those pieces of the 
colossal images which were found already detached, such as portions 
of arms, projecting drapery, &c., usually broke when lifted, what- 
ever care was used. An attempt to move the complete statues or 
torsos from their places would have meant only vandal destruction, 
unless elaborate appliances, including perhaps specially constructed 
coffin-like cases made to measure, as it were, could be provided. 
T'o improvise these I had neither time nor the technical means, and 
in any case it would have been a practical impossibility to arrange 
for the safe transport of such loads over the mountains, whether to 
India or Europe. 

All that could be done in the case of these large sculptures was 
to bury them again safely in the sand after they had been photo- 
graphed and described, and to trust that they would rest undisturbed 
under their protecting cover—auntil that time, still distant it seems, 
when Khotan shall have its own local museum. But of the smaller 
relievos and sculptural pieces already detached, I succeeded in 
bringing away a considerable number. I felt greatly relieved when 
I found on my arrival at Kashgar, and later also in London, that 
the great trouble and labour which the safe packing of these 
extremely fragile objects had cost me was rewarded by their having 
accomplished the long journey— some six thousand miles by camels, 
ponies, railway and steamer—without any serious damage. The 
two heads of saints in alto-relievo still retaining part of their colour- 
ing, which are shown on pp. 464, 467, illustrate types frequently 


CHAP. XXX. | REMOVAL OF RELIEVOS 467 


STUCCO HEAD OF SMALL BUDDHA OR BODHISATTVA, RETAINING ORIGINAL COLOURING, 
FROM RAWAK STUPA COURT. 


recurring in this collection. Full-size reproductions of other 
sculptures have been given among the plates of my “ Preliminary 
Report.” 


468 SCULPTURES OF RAWAK STUPA [CHAP. XXX. 


By April 18th those portions of the Stupa court which were 
not actually buried under sand dunes had been explored. The 
proper excavation of the other parts could not have been accom- 
plished without months of labour and proportionately heavy ex- 
penditure. A careful examination of the surrounding area revealed 
no other structural remains; broken pottery found here and there 
on some narrow patches of ground between the swelling sand dunes 
was the only trace left of what probably were modest dwelling- 
places around the great shrine. The sand-storms, which visited us 
daily and the increasing heat and glare, had made the work very 
trying to the men as well as myself. It was manifestly time to 
withdraw from the desert. Before, however, leaving the ruins I 
took care to protect the sculptures which could not be moved, by 
haying the trenches that had exposed them filled up again. It was 
a melancholy duty to perform, strangely reminding me of a true 
burial, and it almost cost me an effort to watch the images I had 
brought to light vanishing again, one after the other, under the 
pall of sand which had hidden them for so many centuries. 

Jumbe-kum, some four miles beyond Rawak to the north-east, 
was the only remaining desert site around Khotan from which 
occasional finds had been reported to me. I took occasion to 
visit it from Rawak and convinced myself that this débris-strewn 
‘Tati’ contained no remains capable of excavation. Thus, when 
on the 19th of April I started back to Khotan, I had the satisfac- 
tion of knowing that the programme of my explorations in the 
desert was completed. 


CHAPTER XXXI 
ISLAM AKHUN AND HIS FORGERIES 


Tue eight days’ halt that followed my return to Khotan passed 
with surprising rapidity. A severe cold, brought on by the ex- 
posure of the last weeks in the desert, developed into an attack of 
what looked like bronchitis. This obliged me to remain within 
doors for most of the time, and partly in bed. But the arrange- 
ment of my collections, their partial repacking, and the endless 
little agenda which accumulate after a long season of camp work, 
kept me so busy that this involuntary confinement was scarcely 
realised by myself. I could not have wished for a more pleasant 
shelter than that afforded by Nar-Bagh, the old country residence 
of Niaz Hakim Beg. The many-windowed lofty pavilion in the 
centre of the garden where I had taken up my quarters, as five 
years before me Dr. Hedin had done, secured quiet as well as 
fresh air. The trees along the four little avenues which radiate 
from this pavilion were still partly in bloom when I arrived, and 
even when the last blossoms had withered there was the fresh green 
of the leaves to please the eyes which had so long beheld only the 
yellow and grey of the sand dunes. Judged by the old Moghul 
gardens about Lahore, my cherished haunts in years gone by, Nar- 
Bagh would be thought a very plain villeggiatura of the Eastern 
type. But here in Chinese Turkestan, where even the cultivation 
of a field involves a serious struggle against sterile nature, real 
gardens are so few and far between that Niaz Hakim Beg’s creation 


deserves grateful acknowledgment. 
469 


470 ISLAM AKHUN AND HIS FORGERIES [cuHap. Xxxt. 


I was glad that, on the morning after my arrival, I still felt well 
enough to call on Pan-Darin, who received me at his Yamen like 
an old friend, and, as I imagined, somewhat like a fellow-scholar. 
Much I had to tell him of my excavations and the finds which 
rewarded them. When next day the old Amban came to return 
the visit, I had ready a little representative exhibition of my 
antiquities to satisfy his curiosity. Pan-Darin is undoubtedly 
a man of learning and versed in Chinese history. All the 
same I was surprised by the historical sense displayed in the 
questions which he put to me regarding the relative age, the 
import and character of the multifarious ancient documents I had 
discovered. When I attempted to explain by a reference to 
the plates in Professor Buhler’s ‘‘ Indian Paleography”’ how a 
study of the writing in the various manuscripts would enable 
us to fix their dates with approximate accuracy, Pan-Darin at 
once showed his appreciation of this evidence by writing down 
the modifications through which Chinese characters have passed 
in succeeding periods. I felt almost in company of a colleague, 
and forgot for a moment the irksome cireumlocution and con- 
fusion which conversation through a not over-intelligent interpreter 
implies. 

Only in one respect did the interest of Pan-Darin in my finds 
at first embarrass me. He dwelt on the fact of all these old records 
being carried away to the Far West. What could he show to the 
Fu-tai or Governor-General at Urumchi, who had been so in- 
quisitive about the object of my excavations, and who undoubtedly 
would wish to hear of the results? I knew how sympathetically 
Pan-Darin had represented my case, and thanked him heartily for 
the support he had given to the cause of science. I assured him 
against the future curiosity of the Fu-tai by promising to send from 
Kashgar photographs of the various types of ancient documents. 
‘But they should be in duplicate,’ was the cautious demand of my 
learned friend. For he seemed eager to retain for himself some 
samples of the strange records which the desert had yielded up 
after so many centuries. I feel confident that, of the copies of my 


CHAP, xxx1.| PURCHASES OF “OLD BOOKS” 471 


“Preliminary Report”? subsequently transmitted by the Indian 
Government for presentation to Chinese officials, his at least was 
duly appreciated. 

My last stay at Khotan had to be utilised also for a curious 
semi-antiquarian, semi-judicial inquiry. Its success has been 
greeted with no small satisfaction by a number of fellow-scholars, 
besides greatly amusing me at the time. It enabled me to clear up 
the last doubts as to the strange manuscripts and ‘ block-prints ”’ 
in ‘unknown characters ’’ which, as already mentioned, had during 
recent years been purchased from Khotan in remarkable numbers, 
and which had found their way not only to Caleutta, but also to 
great public collections in London, Paris, and St. Petersburg. The 
graye suspicions which my previous inquiries had led me to enter- 
tain about the genuineness of these ‘finds’? was strengthened 
almost to certainty by the explorations of the winter. Ample as 
were the manuscript materials which the latter had yielded, and in 
spite of the great variety of languages and scripts represented 
among them (Kharoshthi, Indian Brahmi, Central-Asian Brahmi, 
Tibetan, Chinese), I had failed to trace the smallest scrap of writing 
in “‘ unknown characters.’’ The actual conditions of the sites ex- 
plored also differed entirely from the conditions under which those 
queer ‘‘ old books ”’ were alleged to have been discovered. 

There was good reason to believe that Islam Akhun, a native of 
Khotan and reputed ‘‘ treasure-seeker,”” to whom it was possible to 
trace most of these manuscripts that had been purchased on behalf 
of the Indian Government during the years 1895-98, was directly 
concerned in the forgeries. He kept away from Khotan during my 
first visits. He had been punished some time before on account of 
other impositions which Captain Deasy and Mr. Macartney had 
brought to the notice of the Khotan authorities, and he evidently 
did not think it safe to attempt further deception in my case. I 
had no reason to regret the wide berth which Islam Akhun had 
given me while I was engaged in my archeological work about 
Khotan and at the ancient sites of the desert. But now when the 
antiquarian evidence as to the true character of those remarkable 


472 ISLAM AKHUN AND HIS FORGERIES [cwap. xxx. 


literary relics in ‘‘ unknown characters’ was practically complete, 
and my departure near at hand, I was anxious for a personal 
examination of that enterprising individual whose productions had 
engaged so much learned attention in Europe. 

Pan-Darin, to whom I confidentially 
communicated my wish to get hold of 
Islam Akhun, readily granted his assist- 
ance. As an attempt on the part of 
Islam Akhun to abscond was by no 
means improbable, and as time was 
getting short, I took care to impress the 
learned Mandarin with the necessity of 
prompt and discreet action. Nor did he 
disappoint me in these respects; for on 


the morning of April 25th Islam 
Akhun was duly produced from 
Chira, where he had been prac- 
tising as a ‘Hakim’ during 
the last winter. He scarcely 
anticipated being ‘‘ wanted”’ 
now, as when passing through 
Chira some three weeks before 
ISLAM AKHUN. I had purposely refrained from 
making any inquiries about him. 
The Beg who escorted him brought also a motley collection of papers 
which had been seized partly in Islam Akhun’s possession and 
partly in his Khotan house, and which on examination proved 
rather curious. They were sheets of artificially discoloured 
paper, covered with impressions of the same elaborate formulas 
in “unknown characters” that appeared in the last batch of 
“ancient block-prints’’ which had been sold in Kashgar. A 
manuscript leaf, also in ‘unknown characters,” had evidently 
remained over from the earlier manufacture when the forger was 
still content to work by mere writing. 
Two large sheets of a Swedish newspaper, the Svenska Morgon- 


CHAP, XXXI. | PREVIOUS IMPOSTURES 473 


bladet of July, 1897—I know how these got to Khotan, but “ that 
is another story ’’—were relics of the imposture when Islam Akhun 
tried to make a living by representing himself among the ignorant 
‘Taghliks ’ south of Khotan and Keriya as an agent sent by Mr. 
Macartney to search out owners of slaves originally carried away 
by Hunza raiders from Indian territory. One of these newspaper 
sheets, nicely mounted on cloth, showed the portrait of a Swedish 
missionary in China, for which Islam Akhun pretended to have sat 
himself. The few Chinese characters printed below, giving the 
Chinese name of the reverend gentleman, were cunningly repre- 
sented by him as containing his own name. Armed with these 
truly imposing documents, which he passed off as his official 
credentials, the clever rogue had managed to levy blackmail from 
innocent hillmen who feared to be accused of the retention of non- 
existent slaves. But after a short period of success he had been 
found out, and subsequently, on Mr. Macartney’s representation, 
had received due punishment at the Khotan Yamen. When about 
1898 the sale of “old books” fell off, owing to the growing 
suspicion attaching to them among the European residents of 
Kashgar, Islam Akhun had taken to the calling of a ‘ Hakim,’ or 
medicine man. ‘The leaves ofa French novel (left behind perhaps 
by MM. Dutreuil de Rhins and Grenard) and the fragments of 
some Persian texts, which had been found on his person and 
were also duly produced, were said to have figured as part of his 
latest equipment. But whether he used the leaves of the French 
novel merely to read out imaginary charms from, or administered 
pieces of them for internal consumption, was, I regret, not ascer- 
tained at the time. 

The examination of this versatile individual proved a protracted 
affair, and through two long days I felt as if breathing the atmo- 
sphere of an Indian judicial court. When first arraigned in my 
improvised ‘‘ Cutchery,” Islam Akhun readily and with contrite 
mien confessed his guilt in the above ‘‘ personation case,’”’ and also 
to having in 1898 obtained money from Badruddin, the Afghan 
Aksakal, by a forged note purporting to be in Captain Deasy’s 


474 ISLAM AKHUN AND HIS FORGERIES [cuap. xxx. 


handwriting. But in the matter of the “‘ old books ”’ he for a long 
time protested complete innocence. He pretended to have acted 
merely as the Kashgar sale agent for certain persons at Khotan, 
since dead or absconded, who, rightly or wrongly, told him that 
they had picked them up in the desert. When he found how much 
such “old books’ were appreciated by Europeans, he asked those 
persons to find more. This they did, whereupon he took their finds 
to Kashgar, &c. Now, he lamented, he was left alone to bear the 
onus of the fraud—if such it was. Muhammad Tari, one of those 
who gave the ‘‘ books,” had previously run away to Yarkand ; 
Muhammad Sidiq, the Mullah, had absconded towards Aksu; and 
a third of the band had escaped from all trouble by dying. 

It was a cleverly devised line of defence, and Islam Akhun clung 
to it with great consistency and with the wariness of a man who 
has had unpleasant experience of the ways of the law. I had 
thought it right to tell him from the first that I was not going to 
proceed against him at the Amban’s Yamen in the matter of these 
happily ended forgeries; for I was aware that such a step, in 
accordance with Chinese procedure, was likely to lead to the appli- 
cation of some effective means of persuasion, ¢.e., torture. This, 
of course, I would not countenance ; nor could a confession as its 
eventual result be to me of any value. Whether it was from Islam 
Akhun’s reliance on these scruples of mine, or from his knowledge 
that direct evidence could not easily be produced within the time 
available, two long cross-examinations, in the interval of which I 
had Islam Akhun’s wants hospitably looked to by my own men, 
failed to bring a solution. However, in the course of his long pro- 
testations of complete innocence, Islam Akhun introduced a denial 
which seemed to offer some chance of catching my wary defendant. 
He emphatically denied having seen any of the alleged find-places 
himself, in fact having ever personally visited any ancient site in 
the desert. 

I had purposely refrained at the time from showing any special 
interest in this far-reaching disclaimer. Consequently I had no 
difficulty-in inducing him to repeat it with still more emphasis 


CHAP. XxxI.] CROSS-EXAMINATION OF FORGER 475 


and in the presence of numerous witnesses when he was brought 
up “on remand” for a third time. Whether encouraged by his 
apparent success so far or by the forbearing treatment I had 
accorded to him, it was evident that the sly, restless-looking 
fellow was for the time being off his guard. So I promptly 
confronted him, from the detailed account printed in Dr. Hoernle’s 
Report, with an exact reproduction of the elaborate stories which he 
had told, in the course of depositions made on different occasions 
before Mr. Macartney, about his alleged journeys and discoveries in 
the Taklamakan during the years 1895-98. 

The effect was most striking. Islam Akhun was wholly un- 
prepared for the fact that his lies told years before, with so 
much seeming accuracy of topographical and other details, had 
received the honour of permanent record in a scientifie report to 
Government. Hearing them now read out by me in re-translation, 
he was thoroughly startled and confused. He appeared also 
greatly impressed by the fact that, with the help of the exact 
information recorded by Mr. Macartney and reproduced by Dr. 
Hoernle, I could enlighten him as to what “old books” he had 
sold at Kashgar on particular occasions, what remarkable state- 
ments he had made about the manner of their discovery by 
himself, &c. He was intelligent enough to realise that he stood 
self-convicted, and that there was nothing to be gained by further 
protestations of innocence. He now admitted that he had seen 
manuscripts being written by his above-named employers (recte 
accomplices) at a deserted Mazar near Sampula. Little by little 
his admissions became more detailed, and ultimately, when assured 
that no further punishment awaited him, he made a clean breast 
of it. 

Islam Akhun’s subsequent confessions proved perfectly correct 
on many important particulars when checked from the records 
kept at Kashgar, as well as from the evidence of a number of 
independent witnesses. He showed himself to be possessed of 
an excellent memory, and readily recognised among the numerous 
photogravure plates accompanying Dr. Hoernle’s Report those 


476 ISLAM AKHUN AND HIS FORGERIES = [cHap. xxxt. 


representing specimen pages from the “ block-printed ” books in 
‘unknown characters’? which formed his own manufacture. He 
had, previous to 1894, been engaged at times in collecting coins, 
seals, and similar antiques from Khotan villages. About that time 
he learned from Afghan traders of the value which the ‘ Sahibs ’ 
from India attached to ancient manuscripts. Genuine scraps of 
such had indeed been unearthed by Turdi and some other 
‘‘treasure-seekers”” at Dandan-Uiliq. But the idea of visiting 
such dreary desert sites, with the certainty of great hardships and 
only a limited chance of finds, had no attraction for a person of 
such wits as Islam Akhun. So in preference he conceived the 
plan of manufacturing the article he was urged to supply the 
Sahibs with. 

In this enterprise he had several accomplices, among whom a 
certain Ibrahim Mullah was the leading man. This person 
appears to have made it his special business to cultivate the 
Russian demand for “old books,” while Islam Akhun attended 
chiefly to the requirements of British officers and other collectors. 
Ibrahim Mullah, from whom the Russian Armenian I met on my 
first arrival at Khotan had purchased his forged birch-bark manu- 
script, was credited with some knowledge of Russian, a circumstance 
which explains the curious resemblance previously noticed between 
the characters used in some of the “ block-prints’ and the Greek 
(recte Russian) alphabet. Ibrahim Mullah gave proof of his 
‘¢slimness,”’ as well as his complicity, by promptly disappearing 
from Khotan on the first news of Islam Akhun’s arrest, and could 
not be confronted with him. 

The first “old book” produced in this fashion was successfully 
sold by Islam Akhun in 1895 to Munshi Ahmad Din, who was in 
charge of the Assistant Resident’s Office at Kashgar during the 
temporary absence of Mr. Macartney. This ‘book ”’ was written 
by hand, and an attempt had been made, as also in some others of 
the earliest products of the factory, to imitate the cursive Brahmi 
characters found in fragments of genuine manuscripts which 
Ibrahim was said to have secured from Dandan-Uiliq. Though 


CHAP. xxxI.| MANUFACTURE OF “OLD BOOKS” 477 


the forgers never succeeded in producing a text showing con- 
secutively the characters of any known script, yet their earliest 
fabrications were executed with an amount of care and 
ingenuity which might well deceive for a time even expert 
scholars in Europe. This may be seen by referring to the 
facsimiles which .are given in Dr. Hoernle’s Second ‘‘ Report on 
Central-Asian Antiquities,” from ‘codices’ belonging to the 
early output, now deposited with so many other products of 
Islam Akhun’s factory in the ‘‘ forgery’ section of the Manuscript 
Department of the British Museum. The facsimile of an 
“ancient Khotan manuscript’ which appears in the German 
edition of Dr. Sven Hedin’s work, “Through Asia,”’ is a con- 
veniently accessible illustration of the factory’s produce in a 
somewhat later and less careful phase of its working. 

Seeing that remunerative prices could be obtained for such 
articles at Kashgar and, through Badruddin’s somewhat careless 
mediation, also from Ladak and Kashmir, the efforts of the forgers 
were stimulated. As Islam Akhun quickly perceived that his 
“books” were readily paid for, though none of the Europeans 
who bought them could read their characters or distinguish them 
from ancient scripts, it became unnecessary to trouble about 
imitating the characters of genuine fragments. Thus, apparently, 
each individual factory “hand” was given free scope for inventing 
his own ‘unknown characters.” This explains the striking 
diversity of these queer scripts, of which the analysis of the 
texts contained in the “‘ British collection’ at one time revealed a 
least a dozen—not exactly to the assurance of the Oriental scholars 
who were to help in their decipherment. 

The rate of production by the laborious process of hand-writing 
was, however, too slow, and accordingly the factory took to the 
more convenient method of producing books by means of repeated 
impressions from a series of wooden blocks. The preparation of 
such blocks presented no difficulty, as printing from wooden blocks 
is extensively practised in Chinese Turkestan. This printing of 
‘old books” commenced in 1896, and its results are partly repre- 


478 ISLAM AKHUN AND HIS FORGERIES [cwap. xxx. 


2:2; 


sented by the forty-five ‘ block-prints ’ which are fully described 
and illustrated in Dr. Hoernle’s First Report. These, too, 
showed an extraordinary variety of scripts in their ever-recurring 
formulas, and were often of quite imposing dimensions in size and 
bulk. 

Islam Akhun, when once his defence had collapsed, was not 
chary about giving technical details about the forgers’ methods of 
work. In fact, he seemed rather to relish the interest I showed in 
them. Thus he fully described the procedure followed in preparing 
the paper that was used for the production of manuscripts or ‘ block 
prints,’ as well as the treatment to which they were subjected in 
order to give them an ancient look. The fact of Khotan being the 
main centre of the Turkestan paper industry was a great convenience 
for the forgers, as they could readily supply themselves with any 
variety and size of paper needed. The sheets of modern Khotan 
paper were first dyed yellow or light brown by means of ‘ Togh- 
rugha,’ a product of the Toghrak tree, which, when dissolved 
in water, gives a staining fluid. 

When the dyed sheets had been written or printed upon they 
were hung over fireplaces so as to receive by smoke the proper hue 
of antiquity. It was, no doubt, in the course of this manipulation 
that the sheets occasionally sustained the burns and scorchings of 
which some of the ‘old books” transmitted to Calcutta display 
evident marks. Afterwards they were bound up into volumes. 
This, however, seems to have been the least efficiently managed 
department of the concern, for the coarse imitation of European 
volumes which is unmistakable in the case of most of the later 
products, as well as the utter unsuitability of the fastenings 
employed (usually pegs of copper or twists of paper), would a 
priori have justified grave suspicions as to their genuineness. — 
Finally the finished manuscripts or books were treated to a liberal 
admixture between their pages of the fine sand of the desert, in 
order to make them tally with the story of their long burial. I well 
remember how, in the spring of 1898, I had to apply a clothes brush 
before I could examine one of these forged ‘‘ block-prints” that had 
reached a collector in Kashmir. 


CHAP. xxxI.| THE FORGER’S CONFESSIONS 479 


All the previously suspected details of this elaborate and, for a 
time, remarkably successful fraud were thus confirmed by its main 
operator in the course of a long and cautiously conducted examina- 
tion, It was a pleasure to me to know, and to be able to tell 
fellow-scholars in Europe: habemus confitentem rewm—and_ that 
without any resort to Eastern methods of judicial inquiry. Yet 
possibly I had reason to feel even keener satisfaction at the fact 
that the positive results of my explorations were sufficient to 
dispose once for all of these fabrications so far as scholarly 
interests were concerned, even if Islam Akhun had never made 
his confession. In the light of the discoveries which had rewarded 
my excavations at Dandan-Uiliq and Endere, and of the general 
experience gained during my work in the desert, it had become as 
easy to distinguish between Islam Akhun’s forgeries and genuine 
old manuscripts as it was to explode his egregious stories about 
the ancient sites which were supposed to have furnished his 
“finds.” Not only in the colour and substance of the paper, but 
also in arrangement, state of preservation, and a variety of other 
points, all genuine manuscripts show features never to be found in 
Islam Akhun’s productions. But apart from this, there is the plain 
fact that the forgers never managed to produce a text exhibiting 
consecutively the characters of any known script, while all ancient 
documents brought to light by my explorations invariably show a 
writing that is otherwise well known to us. There is, therefore, 
little fear that Islam Akhun’s forgeries will cause deception here- 
after. 

This consideration, as well as the fact of the forgers’ work 
having ceased some three years earlier, had decided me not to 
press for Islam Akhun’s punishment on the score of this fraud. 
I knew besides that my kind-hearted friend Pan-Darin was not 
without reason popularly credited with a pious pronéness for 
pardoning sinners. In fact, I had noticed during our interview 
how relieved the old Amban looked when I told him that I did 
not consider it a part of my business to demand Islam Akhun’s 
punishment for antiquarian forgeries, of which Chinese criminal 


480 ISLAM AKHUN AND HIS FORGERIES [cwap. xxx. 


justice might perhaps take a view very different from ours. There 
was also the manifest difficulty of bringing the other members of 
the firm to book, not to mention the “‘ extenuating circumstances ”’ 
connected with the way in which encouragement had been afforded 
to the fraud by indiscriminating purchasers. Nevertheless, when I 
remembered the great loss of valuable time and labour which the 
fabrications of Islam Akhun and his associates had caused to 
scholars of distinction, it was a satisfaction to know that this 
clever scoundrel had already, on one count or another, received 
from Chinese justice his well-deserved punishment. For fraudu- 
lently obtaining from Badruddin a sum equivalent to about Rs.12 
on the strength of a scrawl which he pretended to be Captain 
Deasy’s order, he had been made to wear the wooden collar for a 
good time; for the imposture practised as Mr. Macartney’s Agent 
he had suffered corporal punishment as well as a term of imprison- 
ment. 

I had ample opportunity in the course of these prolonged 
‘‘interviews’’ to convince myself that Islam Akhun was a man 
of exceptional intelligence for those parts, and also possessed of 
a quick wit and -humour, equally unusual among the ordinary 
‘Khotanliks.” He was of slender build, with a face and eyes 
expressing sharpness as well as sly restlessness. Something in 
his looks I thought suggested Kashmiri descent, but this I was 
not able to ascertain. He greatly amused me by his witty repartees 
to honest old Turdi, whom with humorous impudence he adduced as 
a living demonstration of the fact that ‘‘there was nothing to be 
got out of the desert.” He was greatly impressed by seeing his 
own handiwork so perfectly reproduced in the photogravure plates 
accompanying Dr. Hoernle’s Report, and was very anxious to learn 
how this feat could be accomplished. I had no doubt he was fully 
alive to the splendid opportunities for fresh frauds which this 
‘Wilayeti’ art might provide. How much more proud would he 
have felt if he could but have seen, as I did a few months later, the 
fine morocco bindings with which a number of his block-printed 
Codices. had been honoured in a great European library ! 


CHAP. xxxI.] WIT AND HUMOUR OF FORGER 481 


I represented to Islam Akhun that, willing as I was to credit him 
with a reliable memory concerning the methods and materials 
employed in his factory, it would still be desirable for me to 
obtain some tangible memento of them. So he at once volunteered 
to furnish one or more of the blocks employed in printing those 
precious ‘books.’ As all information had by that time been 
duly recorded, I allowed him to be set free conditionally from 
the lock-up of the Yamen, and on the following morning he 
turned up in due course with one of the promised blocks from 
his own house. The news of his arrest had of course long before 
spread through the town, and hence it was difficult for him to gain 
access to the homes of his former associates, where more of these 
materials may have been retained. 

Whether it was from a right perception that his 7d6le was now 
completely played out, or because he felt that his ignominious 
collapse in the course of the inquiry had rendered him ridiculous 
before his old friends, Islam Akhun looked far more cowed in the 
end, though free, than when first brought up as a prisoner. I had 
told him before in jest that I thought him far too clever a man 
to be allowed to remain in Khotan among such ignorant people. 
A curious incident showed that the remark had not passed 
unappreciated. Shortly before my departure Islam Akhun pre- 
sented himself with a petition, evidently meant to be serious, 
praying that I might take him along to Europe. It was not quite 
clear in what capacity he expected me to utilise his services en route. 
But I think there could be no doubt that the strange request was 
prompted by the hope of finding in distant ‘ Wilayet’ a wider 
sphere for his forging abilities!] So I need not regret, perhaps, 
having shown myself obdurate. 


32 


IN A KHOTAN BAZAR. 


CHAPTER XXXII 
LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS 


On the 27th of April I paid my farewell visit to the Khotan 
Yamen with sincere regret. It meant, goodbye to Pan-Darin, who 
had proved in every way a true friend to me, He was unmistakably 
a man of the old school, not over fond of Western notions and 
influences. Yet from my first visit I felt that he understood my 
scientific aims and was ready to further them. I soon grew fond of 
his quiet, unaffected ways, which seemed to express so plainly his 
personal character. As an administrator this learned old gentleman 
may have his shortcomings. But all my native informants were 
unanimous in praising his integrity and genuine kindness. So 
I hoped that the literary attainments of my Mandarin friend would 
482 


CHAP, xxx1I.]} DEPARTURE FROM KHOTAN TOWN 483 


carry weight at Urumchi, whither he was shortly to retire, and 
would secure him some comfortable appointment, maybe the 
Taotai-ship of Kashgar. 

On my way back I treated myself to a last long ride through the 
Khotan Bazars. It was the Saturday market of the ‘‘ Old Town,” 
and its long central street was overflowing with buyers and sellers. 
A glorious sunshine, pouring through the shaky tattered awnings 
that connect the houses and shops flanking the street, gave 
brilliancy to all the gaudy wares exhibited in the booths from which 
I selected mementoes. The old skill of the Khotan workmen still 
shows itself in the quaint articles of dress which form a prominent 
feature of the Bazar stores. But the universal use of aniline dyes 
seems, here as elsewhere in the East, to have destroyed the old 
sense of colour harmony. The capital of Khotan is indeed a small 
place, and in the course of my ride I revisited almost every 
picturesque lane and quaint mosque I knew from my stay in the 
autumn, After the long months in the desert I found a strange 
pleasure in seeing humanity again surging around me. But more 
than anything else the beautiful green of the young foliage which 
intruded everywhere into the lanes and the deep blue sky helped to 
throw lustre on my last impressions of Khotan. 

On the following morning I said goodbye to Nar-Bagh. I had 
started off my heavy baggage under Ram Singh’s charge four days 
earlier for Yarkand. So the final departure was not so troublesome 
an. affair as starts on new journeys usually are in Turkestan. All 
the same I was kept hard at work with leave-taking from local 
acquaintances who came to see me off, with the distribution of 
medicines for cases actual and prospective among my friends’ 
families, and—last but not least—the dispensing of ‘‘ tips.” 
Chinese Turkestan is a country where services whether large or 
small must be compensated by “‘ tips ’’ just as much as in the best- 
conducted hotels of European centres of civilisation. Attendants 
of the Yamen who had been deputed to look after my camp ; 
visitors who had helped in collecting information or antiques ; 
Yiizbashis who had arranged for supplies, et hoc genus omne, had 


484 LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS [cuap. xxxu. 


to receive appropriate tokens of my satisfaction. Expensive in a 
way as this system is, it saves needless cireumlocution and géne. 
There is no need to disguise one’s “‘ tips”’ in the form of presents, or 
to press them into hands that for the sake of appearances pretend 
to refuse them. Silver or gold, as the case may be, is accepted 
with the same unblushing readiness which seems to have been the 
proper ‘style at Indian courts before European notions effected a 
change—on the surface. Of course, little souvenirs are not rejected 
by one’s Turkestan friends. But what marks the value of services 
rendered, and is mainly looked for, is hard cash. 

My march of the first day was only a short one. I did not wish 
to leave Khotan without a farewell visit to the site of the ancient 
capital, Yotkan. The road I followed was the same by which I had 
returned from that spot on a gloomy and cold November day. But 
what a glorious change in the landscape! Riding through the 
hamlets clustering in the fertile cantons of Tosalla and Borazan, 
there was nothing but deliciously green fields and orchards to rest 
one’s eyes on. The first crop of lucerne was already standing 
high; the avenues of poplars, mulberry-trees, and willows had 
decked themselves with the richest foliage,*and since the unusual 
rain that had fallen during my stay in Nar-Bagh scarcely any dust 
had had time to settle on the young leaves. It was a delightful 
ride which showed me the oasis under its prettiest aspects. When 
more open ground was reached beyond Halalbagh, the whole range 
of the great mountains burst into view. Quite clearly I saw the 
heights of Ulughat-Dawan and Kauruk-kuz where we fixed our 
triangulation stations. Beyond them, to my surprise, the icy 
ridges which form the watershed towards the sources of the 
Karakash showed themselves in rugged splendour. The inhospit- 
able mountains through which I had toiled in November seemed 
thus to send me a farewell greeting. Their grand panorama was 
the finest setting for the last views I carried away with me of this 
strange little world between the desert and the mighty Kuen-luen. 

At Yotkan, where I pitched my tent once more in the pretty 
orchard below the Yiizbashi’s house, I was busy collecting samples 


CHAP. XXXII. ] LAST VISIT TO YOTKAN 485 


of soil from the different strata which contain the ancient deposits 
and the silt that has buried them. I was, also, able to acquire an 
additional number of ancient coins, seals, terra-cottas, &c., the 
owners of which had not come forward on the former occasion. 
The most notable of these antiques was a tiny statuette in solid 
gold, representing a sitting monkey of exactly the same style and 
attitude as frequently found among the terra-cotta figurines from 
the same site. 

On the morning of the 29th of April I left Yotkan for the canton 
of Kara-kash, which forms 
the north-western edge of 
the oasis. I had not found 
a previous opportunity to 
visit it, and had now an 
additional reason to look 
it up before my final 
departure. Islam Beg, my 
faithful ‘Darogha’ of the 
days of Karanghu-tagh and 
Dandan-Uiliq, had since 
been appointed one of the 
Begs of Kara-kash. 
Rightly or wrongly, he 
attributed his good fortune 
to my recommendation 
with the Amban. So he 


BADRUDDIN KHAN AND AFGHAN TRADER, KHOTAN. 
was anxious to show me 


Kara-kash, both as his native place and the present sphere of his 
official functions. Both he and Badruddin Khan, the Afghan 
Aksakal, had followed me from Khotan and claimed the privilege of 
keeping me company up to the very border of the oasis. 

The weather kept bright and clear, and made the day’s ride most 
enjoyable. In the early morning we passed though Bizin, the 
market-place of the Borazan tract, on the high-road that leads from 
Zawa to Khotan. It was Monday, the local market-day, and the 


486 LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS [cHaP. Xxxtl. 


long rows of booths and shops were already thronged with villagers. 
But a sight more curious to me was the long stream of petty 
traders whom we passed along the country tracks leading from 
Kara-kash to Bizin. The weekly market of Kara-kash had been 
held on the preceding day, and the same traders who had then 
exhibited their wares there were now hurrying on to Bizin. 
Badruddin Khan, who usually himself shares these migrations, 
explained to me the system by which the week-days are divided 
between the seven main Bazars of the oasis. The “ Old” and 
“New” towns of Khotan, Yurung-kash, Sampula, Imam Musa 
Kasim, Bizin, and Kara-kash have each a weekly market-day, and 
as the distances are not great and the succession of the several local 
markets is conveniently arranged, the traders make it a point to 
attend all these markets in turn. Ponies carry the bales containing 
the migratory ‘‘ shops,” and, balanced on the top of the loads, 
their owners and assistants. Thus that morning the greater 
part of the petty trading community of Khotan passed: me as it 
were on review. Badruddin Khan knew them all well, goods, 
ponies and men, and had much to tell of their financial fortunes and 
personal characters. ; 

I was surprised at the number of foreigners whom we met among 
these hurrying traders. There were Kabulis and Bajauris, men 
from Pishin in Baluchistan, and plenty of Andijanis. A few 
Kashmiris, too, I saw in the straggling procession, but the greeting 
T addressed to them in familiar ‘Kashtir kath’ (Kashmiri) met with 
no response. They were the sons of emigrants settled in Yarkand, 
and had forgotten their fathers’ tongue. Among the Afghans, too, it 
is rare that the children know anything of Persian or Pushtu. 
Once more I had occasion to reflect on the great power of assimila- 
tion exercised by the Turki-speaking population throughout 
Turkestan. It quickly absorbs races which on Indian soil would 
retain their well-marked individuality and difference of speech for 
generations. Whatever the causes may be, this rapid amalgamation 
at centres like Yarkand and Khotan always presents itself to me as 
an apt illustration of the historical process by which Turki tribes 


CHAP. xxx11.] VISIT TO KARA-KASH TOWN 487 


far away to the west have peacefully absorbed foreign elements more 
numerous’ and cultured than themselves. 

I reached Kara-kash town in the afternoon, after crossing the wide 
bed of the river from which it is named, and found it a comparatively 
lively and well-built place. The garden of one of Islam Beg’s 
relations had been hospitably prepared for my reception, and there 
I was busy until a late hour with the measurement of many heads 
for anthropological purposes and the record of interesting details 
about local administration, taxes, &ec., for which I had in Islam 
Beg a first-hand authority. 

April 80th was to be my last day within the territory of Khotan. I 
used it for a long excursion to a‘ Tati’ site called Kara-débe (‘‘ the 
Black Mound”’), of which Islam Beg had obtained information, away 
to the west on the edge of the desert. In order to reach it we had 
to traverse in succession the remarkably fertile tracts of Bahram-su, 
Kayesh, Makuya, and Kuya, all stretching in long strips of highly 
cultivated ground with shady orchards and lanes along their own 
separate canals fed by the Kara-kash. No more pleasing picture 
could I retain as a souvenir of rural Khotan. The day was hot and 
close, and the vision of the mountains had already vanished in the 
usual haze. So I was quite glad when, after passing for some 
seven miles over a scrub-covered sandy plain and then through low 
dunes, Kara-dobe was reached. I found the ground for about a 
square mile covered with ancient pottery, and in the midst of this 
debris a small mound of broken masonry. The brick work was 
undoubtedly old, and might well have belonged once to the base of 
a Stupa. Elsewhere broken pieces of hard white stucco with 
relievo ornament possibly represent the last remains of some long- 
decayed shrine. Heavy dunes of coarse sand, very trying to our 
ponies, had to be crossed for some four miles before we struck the 
western bank of a broad marshy Nullah in which the stream of 
Yawa expands among reed-covered lagoons. And when by 
nightfall I arrived at my camp pitched near the village of Zawa, I 
might well feel as if, by these changes of rich village land, sandy 
jungle, high dunes and marsh, Vaisravana, the divine genius loci of 


488 LAST DAYS IN KHOTAN OASIS [cuHap. xxxm. 


Khotan in Buddhist legend, had wished to let me once more see, as 
a parting favour, every nape of scenery I had beheld in the land over 
which he presided. 

By daybreak of the Ist of May I set out for my long journey 
westwards. Cheered as I was by the thought of the road hal now 
lay clear before me to Europe, I felt the sadness of saying farewell, 
probably for ever, to a fascinating field of work and to the last of 
my faithful local helpmates. At Zawa itself I had to take leave of 
_Turdi, my honest old guide, whose experience and local sense never 
failed me in the desert. I liberally rewarded his services with more 
“treasure,” i.ec., cash, than he had ever brought back from his 
wanderings in the Taklamakan. He had also the expectation of 
seeing himself, through Pan-Darin’s favour, installed as ‘ Mirab ’ 
or steward of irrigation for his native village near Yurung-kash. It 
was a snug though modest post to which our ‘ Aksakal of the 
Taklamakan ’ fondly aspired, since he thought he was getting too 
old for the desert, and in view of his proved honesty I had been 
able to recommend him with a good conscience. Yet with this 
comforting prospect before him, I could see how genuine the tears 
were that at our parting trickled over the weather-beaten face of the 
old treasure-seeker. 

It was easier to leave behind Niaz Akhun, my Chinese interpreter. 
He had fallen into a matrimonial entanglement with a captivating 
Khotan damsel of easy virtue, and had decided to remain, against 
the emphatic warnings of the old Amban, who plainly told him 
that, as a confirmed gambler and without a chance of employment, 
he would soon be starving. He had taken the earliest opportunity 
to divest: himself of all further responsibilities for his wife and 
children at Kashgar by divoreing her ‘‘through letter post” as it 
were, the necessary document from a Khotan Mullah costing only a 
few Tangas. With such remarkable ease of divorce throughout the 
country, as illustrated by this typical case, the organisation of 
Turkestan family life has always appeared to me rather puzzling. 

Islam Beg and Badruddin Khan, who had reason to be satisfied 
with the rewards their efficient services had earned them, would not 


CHAP, xxxu.} FAREWELL TO KHOTAN FRIENDS 489 


leave me until we reached Tarbugaz, the lonely Langar on the desert 
edge where I had passed my first night on Khotan soil. When they 
too had bidden me farewell and I was riding on alone by the desert 
track to the ‘‘ Pigeons’ Shrine’? my thoughts freely turned to a 
more cheerful theme—the results I was bringing back from Khotan, 
When Thad passed here nearly seven months before, there was little 
to give me assurance that I should ever see the hopes fulfilled that 
had drawn me to this distant land. But now my task was done and 
I could rejoice in the thought that my labours had been rewarded far 
beyond those long-cherished hopes. Again there came into my mind 
a remembrance of the pious custom which Hiuen-Tsiang had recorded 
at this very site, of the sacred rats that once enjoyed the honour now 
paid to the sacred pigeons. ‘‘ On passing the mounds they descend 
from their chariots and pay their respects as they pass on, praying 
for success as they worship. . . . Most of those who practise these 
religious rites obtain their wishes.’ It was true, the sacred birds 
had not seen me worship; for success too I had not prayed, but only 
worked. Yet as success had come, I felt justified in offering to the 
birds a liberal treat of maize and corn as my grateful ex-voto on 
leaving Khotan. 


HALT ON THE MARCH DOWN THE GULCHA VALLEY, FARGHANA. 


CHAPTER XXXIIT 
FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON 


Tue story of the journey which, within two months of my start from 
Khotan, brought me back to Kashgar and thence through Russian 
Turkestan to Europe, can be told here only in the briefest outlines. 

Six rapid marches, diversified by Burans and that almost for- 
gotten experience, a ‘‘ Europe day”’ with real rain clouds, carried 
me to Yarkand, where my caravan had safely preceded me. The 
short halt I was obliged to make there, mainly to settle accounts and 
to adjust the debts which my several Yarkand followers owed to 
Hindu money-lenders, coincided with an abnormal burst of rain such 
as this region had not seen for long years. The downpour continued 
with short breaks for two days and two nights, until all roads in the 
oasis were turned into quagmires and the mud-built walls of many 


houses in town and villages collapsed. In Yarkand city much dis- 
490 


CHAP. XXXIII. | RETURN TO KASHGAR 491 


tress prevailed ; and even in the palatial halls of Chini-Bagh, which 
LT again occupied, the mud roofs were soon leaking so badly that I felt 
serious concern about the safety of my antiquities. However, the 
heavy ‘downpour had delightfully cooled the air, and thus the 140 
odd miles to Kashgar, which I covered in less than three days, 
was a thoroughly enjoyable ride. 

The morning of May 12th, a brilliantly clear day and full of the 
sensation of spring, saw me once more at Chini-Bagh under Mr. 
Macartney’s hospitable roof, which I had left almost exactly eight 
months before. The warmest welcome greeted me there, and in the 
company of such kind friends I found it difficult to realise how long 
I had been cut off from personal touch with Europe. I might have 
feared to tire my hosts by a pent-up torrent of talk, had I not been 
assured by so many proofs of the constant interest with which Mr. 
Macartney had from afar followed my explorations. It was a source 
of keen pleasure to me to be able to show him what ample results 
had attended my work, and how much I owed to that local help 
which his influence and care had mainly assured me. 

The kind hospitality I enjoyed made my stay at Kashgar a period 
of welcome physical rest, notwithstanding the multifarious prepara- 
tions that kept me constantly at work. The Government of India 
in the Foreign Department, in accordance with the request I made 
before my start from Calcutta, had obtained for me permission from 
the authorities in St. Petersburg to travel through Russian Turke- 
stan and to use the Trans-Caspian Railway for my return to Europe. 
I had also been authorised to take my archeological collections for 
temporary deposit to England, where alone convenient arrangements 
could be made for their scholarly examination. It hence became 
necessary at Kashgar to repack all my antiquarian finds with special 
regard for safe transport on this long journey, while all surveying 
instruments and other equipment, together with the records of our 
survey work, were to be sent back to India via Hunza in charge of 
the Sub-Surveyor. 

While the fresh transport arrangements thus necessitated by our 
different routes demanded much careful attention, I was also kept 


A\ 


492 FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON | [cuHap. xxxirt. 


busy with the ‘‘ demobilisation ”’ of my old caravan. The camels and 
ponies, which had served us so well during the journeys of the pre- 
ceding eight months, could not be taken any further, and as a not 
insignificant portion of the grant allotted for the expenses of my 
journey was invested in the animals, their satisfactory disposal was. 
amatter of some concern. After a good deal of bargaining, which, in 
view of the trade customs of the Turkestan ‘ Kirakash,’ or carriers, 
could scarcely be wondered at, I succeeded in this quasi-commercial 
task far better than I had ventured to hope at one time. The ponies 
sold practically without any loss, while in the case of our eight camels 
I realised not less than three-fourths of the purchase price. If I 
could have afforded the time to await the proper season of caravan 
traffic northward into Russian territory, I should probably have 
recovered for Government the whole of the original outlay on my 
Turkestan transport. That, after all the hard marching and exposure 
of our winter campaign in the desert the whole of the transport 
had been safely brought back, in a condition which allowed of its 
sale with such small loss, may justly be claimed as a proof of the 
care we had taken of our animals. 

The arrangements for my onward journey were greatly facilitated 
by the kind help of M. Petrovsky, Imperial Consul-General of 
Russia at Kashgar, whose acquaintance I was fortunate enough to 
make on this occasion. During a long official career in Turkestan 
M. Petrovsky has devoted a great deal of scholarly zeal to the study 
of the history and antiquities of the country, as I had ample 
occasion to note in the course of the instructive interviews with 
which I was favoured within the Russian Consulate. | He now did all 
in his power to ensure the safe transit of my archeological finds to 
England, and to secure for me the friendly assistance of the 
authorities in Russian Turkestan. For the help thus accorded I 
may be allowed to express here my grateful acknowledgments. 

During my stay at Kashgar I had repeated occasions to meet 
again Huang-Kuang-ta, the kindly old Tao-tai, and to assure him 
of my gratitude for the most effective co-operation which I had 
received from the Chinese officials wherever my explorations took 


CHAP. XXXIII. | AMONG OLD FRIENDS 493 


me. The amiable old administrator did not deny the genuine 
interest and goodwill with which he had followed my work. But he 
politely insisted on attributing all the sympathy and support I had 
enjoyed from him and his Ambans to the benediction of my patron 
saint, ‘Tang-Seng.’ He even suggested as an explanation that we 
might both, in some previous birth, have been together under the 
direct spiritual influence of the great Buddhist monk! The Tao-tai 
talked of an early retirement to Hu-nan, and of his wish to end his 
days peacefully in a famous Buddhist convent near his home. This 
pious hope was not fulfilled; for illness and age caused him to pass 
away at his post within a year of my departure. 

After a fortnight of busy work the demobilisation of my camp was 
completed, and all my antiquities safely packed in twelve large 
boxes. They were duly presented at the Russian Consulate for 
purposes of customs examination (a most gently conducted one), and 
then received their seals with the Imperial eagle, which I succeeded 
in keeping intact until I could unpack my treasures in the British 
Museum. I may mention the fact of my personally taking these 
boxes unopened over the various land frontiers from China to 
England as an indication of how much civilisation has done to — 
obliterate in some respects the great barriers between Kashgar and 
London. 

At last the day came when I had to say farewell to my hosts, 
whose unceasing kindness had made this first and practically only 
rest after my desert wanderings an experience of which the 
pleasure will not easily fade from my recollection. On the morning 
fixed for my own departure I saw Sub-Surveyor Ram Singh, the 
faithful companion of my travels, set out for the return journey to 
India. He had rendered excellent services in accurately surveying 
the whole of the ground covered by my journeys, and had in addition 
to his proper duties been always eager to make himself useful in 
connection with my archveological work. He had at all times 
cheerfully borne the fatigues inseparable from rapid travelling over 
difficult ground and often under trying climatic conditions, and had 
given me valuable help in the management of my camp. I had 


494. FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON © [onap., xxxim, 


indeed every reason to feel grateful to the Survey of India Depart- 
ment, and in particular to its present head, Colonel St. G. Gore, 6.8.1, 
for haying provided me with so willing and well trained an assistant. 
With Ram Singh there left also Jasvant Singh, the wiry little 


RAM SINGH AND JASVANT SINGH, WITH ‘ YOLCHI BEG,’ 
IN MR: MACARTNEY’S GARDEN, KASHGAR. 


Rajput who had looked after the Surveyor’s bodily comforts with 
exemplary care and devotion. Cheerful and contented, however 
long the march or bleak our camping-ground, Jasvant Singh could 
indeed serve as a model to every one of my followers. 

Knowing how great a favourite ‘ Yolchi Beg’ was with both my 
Hindus, I could safely entrust the genial little fox-terrier to their 


CHAP. xxx] FAREWELL TO COMPANIONS 495, 


care for the journey back to India. To take him along with myself 
to Europe was out of the question. Equal as my little companion 
had proved to all hardships of mountains and desert, it would haye 
been cruel to subject him to weeks of a wearisome journey by rail 
merely to leave him in the end to the confinement of quarantine on 
reaching England. Yet I confess I felt the separation from the 
devoted comrade of all my travels, until we joyfully met again one 
November night on a Punjab railway platform. He had ailed a 
little before my return, but soon picked up his spirits again—only 
to pine away in the end when my scientific task had forced me once 
more to proceed to England. Fate favoured him in the place of his 
death, for he breathed his last in Alpine Kashmir, which he loyed 
like his master. 

On May 29, 1901, exactly a year after leaving Srinagar, I started 
from Kashgar for Osh, the nearest Russian town in Farghana. My 
caravan was small, six sturdy ponies carrying my antiquities, while two 
more sufficed for a tente @abri and my much reduced camp outfit and 
personal baggage. Besides the men attending to the hired animals 
only Sadak Akhun accompanied me. Safely removed from the evil 
spirits of the desert (recte the temptation to take too large doses of 
‘Charas’), he had become again a fairly sober character. The 
caravan route from Kashgar to Osh, across the Alai mountains, is 
reckoned at eighteen marches. Anxious to save time, I managed 
to cover it in ten days, keeping in the saddle or on foot from early 
morning until nightfall. 

Owing to the exceptional rain of the previous weeks and the 
rapid melting of the snows, the feeders of the Kizil-su, which 
the route crosses repeatedly before reaching the Russian frontier 
towards the Alai, were all in flood, The passage of my precious 
loads of antiques across the swollen streams was hence a daily 
anxiety. However, with care and some good fortune we managed 
to negotiate each of these obstacles without a single box getting 
drenched, and on the evening of the fifth day I arrived at Irkeshtam, 
the Russian frontier post. Never have I felt so much the signifi- 
cance of a political barrier. For it seemed Europe indeed into 


496 FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON | [cnap. xxxut. 


which I stepped when, a few hundred yards from the Chinese frontier, 
I entered the well-built, comfortable house, nestling below the 
Cossack garrison’s fort, where M. Dochenko, the hospitable officer 
in charge of the Russian Customs, gave me a warm welcome. 

The scenery next morning showed an equally marked and 
pleasant change. The barren rock and detritus of the valleys at 
the head-waters of the Kizil-su gave way to grassy alpine slopes 
soon after I left Irkeshtam. The usual route over the Terek Pass 
was closed by the depth and softness of the snow. So I had to 
take the more circuitous route over the Alai. On the Taun-murun 
Pass (close on 12,000 feet above the sea), which crosses the water- 
shed between Tarim and Oxus, and on which we had to spend 
a comfortless night, the deep snowdrifts and inclement weather 
caused much trouble. The sky did not clear next day when I rode 
down the broad rolling ‘ Mares,’ as we should call them in 
Kashmir, of the head of the Alai Valley, and consequently I lost 
the chance of sighting Mount Kaufmann and other high peaks of 
the Trans-Alai range towards the Pamir. 

The Kirghiz had not yet ventured up to these splendid summer 
grazings which would force even the most stolid of Kashmir 
Gujars to admiration. The consequent want of shelter and supplies 
forced us to attempt the same day the crossing of the Taldik Pass 
in order to reach less exposed ground northwards. We were now 
indeed on the good bridle road that leads from Gulcha to the 
‘Pamirski post,’ the well-known Russian fort on the Pamirs ; but, 
it was completely obliterated higher up by deep snow, and a blind- 
ing snowstorm came on while we toiled up to the Pass. But for 
the excellent guidance of our plucky ‘ Jigit,’ a Nogai or Russified 
Muhammadan from Kazan whom the obliging Customs officer of 
Irkeshtam had provided as an escort, we might have fared badly. 
It was late in the night before we struggled through to the deserted 
Kirghiz blockhouses of Och-tobe at the northern foot of the Pass. It 
was a wretched shelter, but all my boxes were safe. 

After this experience, the rapid marches of the next three days, 
which carried me down the valley of the Gulcha River, were doubly 


CHAP. XXXIII. | OVER THE ALAI PASSES 497 


delightful. The Alpine scenery, the luxuriant growth of herbs and 
flowers, as well as the abundance of pine forest in the higher side 
valleys, reminded me at every turn of familiar views in Kashmir. 
We met plenty of Kirghiz with their entire household on camels and 


IN THE BAZAR OF OSH, FARGHANA., 


ponies, slowly moving up for their summer ‘ Yailaks’ on the Alai. 
The fine carpets displayed on the camels which the women-folk 
rode gave to these caravans quite an air of splendour. 

T cannot pause to describe the many signs of prosperity and rapid 
material development which met the eye everywhere as soon as I 
had entered, on the 7th of June, the open fertile parts of the great 


33 


498 FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON | [cHap. xxxtll. 


Farghana Valley. Through carefully cultivated fields and sub- 
stantially built villages, where there was much to indicate the 
beneficial results of a well-ordered European administration com- 
bined with great natural resources, I rode that evening into Osh, 
the prettily situated headquarters of the district. Its cantonment, 
founded by General Skobeleff on the conquest of Farghana only 
some twenty-five years before, looked, with its clean streets of 
Russian houses and its fine park along the broad, tossing river, 
like a favoured spot of Eastern Europe. Yet at the same time 
I was curiously reminded by many a pleasant feature of Indian 
‘stations’? L knew well along the foot of the Himalayas. 

Colonel Zaytseff, the Chief of the District, and an officer of 
distinguished attainments, received me with the greatest kindness. 
His office, with picturesque Ming-bashis and Kirghiz headmen in 
attendance outside, still suggested the ‘“‘ Cutchery” of an Indian 
Frontier District. But at the charming villa where I enjoyed his 
hospitality, together with a glorious view of the snow-covered Alai 
range in the distance, everything breathed the air of Europe. The 
telegraph, which enabled me here to get into touch with home, still 
further strengthened the illusion that I had reached the confines of 
the West. 

A short halt at Osh gave much-needed rest. I here discharged 
Sadak Akhun, whose open-air kitchen arrangements had aroused 
as much interest in the Russian household of my host, the local 
postmaster, as if they had been carried on in the back garden of a 
London suburb. I also disposed there of my remaining Indian 
camp furniture. I had reason to compliment myself on the lucky 
inspiration which prompted this last step. For when, after a four- 
hours’ drive by the well-shaded road that traverses the open fertile 
plain towards Andijan, I reached this great town and with it the 
terminus of the Trans-Caspian Railway, I found myself in full Kurope 
for all practical purposes. In the comfortable hostelry of the 
‘‘Moskwiya Numer’? my camp-bed and camp-chair would have 
been as much out of place as if set up in the inn of an English 
country town. 


CHAP. XXXIII.] IN RUSSIAN TURKESTAN 499 


The Russian part of Andijan, stretching with broad and well- 
watered roads to the east of the railway head, presented in all 
respects the appearance of a thriving commercial town of Eastern 
Europe. There were numbers of well-stocked shops, offices full of 
Russian clerks, and, in the evening, a large gathering of European 
employés listening to the military band that played in the public 
gardens surrounding the fine church. The large native city some 
miles off bore the same air of bustling life and prosperity. Andijan 
was an important centre long before the Russian occupation, and 
the great impetus given by the latter to the material progress of 
Farghana had only added to the wealth of its traders, particularly 
since the extension of the Trans-Caspian Railway. While walking 
through the broad, well-kept Bazars, stocked with all kinds of 
European manufacture, as well as the produce of home industries 
in Russian and Chinese Turkestan, how little could I think of the 
terrible doom awaiting Andijan in the earthquakes of the last 
year! Every Central-Asian race seemed to be represented in 
the busy multitude that thronged the Bazars. Curiously enough 
I was greeted here by a Kashgar ‘ Haji,’ who a little over a year 
betore, while on his way to Bombay, had met me at the Turki 
Sarai of the Kashmir capital. Since performing the pilgrimage to 
Mecea, he had seen Egypt and Constantinople, and had chosen for 
his homeward journey the convenient railway route from the Black 
Sea and the Caspian. Our meeting here seemed a striking illustra- 
tion how small the ‘ world” is growing, even in Central Asia. 

On the 11th of June I left Andijan by the Trans-Caspian Railway, 
which was now to carry me and my antiquities in comfort and safety 
towards real Europe. This journey, however hurried it had to be 
under the circumstances, enabled me to obtain many. interesting 
glimpses of a part of Central Asia, which by its historical associa- 
tions and its ancient culture, has had a special fascination for me 
ever since my Oriental studies began. Though luckily now under 
a civilised power and hence fully accessible, how much it still offers 
to the historian and archeologist to explore! I made short halts at 
the provincial capitals of Margilan and Samarkand, where T was 


500 FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON | [cuap, Xxxtt. 


favoured with much kind attention by Generals Tchaikowsky and 
Medinsky, the respective governors, and offered special opportunities 
for examining the antiquities collected in the local museums. I may 
add here that, though my knowledge of Russian is as scanty as it 
could be, I met nowhere with anything but courtesy and goodwill 
among Russian fellow-passengers and local officials. The im- 


pressions of the delightful days I spent at Samarkand, mainly in 


AT SAMARKAND: MAR- 
KET WITH RUINED 
MOSQUES IN BACK- 
GROUND. 


visits to the incomparable monuments of architecture of Timur’s 
period which mark the height of Muhammadan power and art in 
Central Asia, could not be surpassed even by the combined 
reminiscences of Lahore, Delhi, and Agra. It was, in truth, 
another exhibition of Moghul grandeur, but under a sky and in 
a climate that even in June recalled Kashmir. 

A brief stay at Merv allowed me to touch ground full of ereat 


CHAP. XXXII. | SAMARKAND TO THE CASPIAN 501 


memories of ancient Iran. It was a tantalising pleasure, perhaps, 
seeing how little chance there seems for me to follow up my early 
historical studies in this field, yet I feel grateful for it. Then past 
the ruins of Gok-tepe, an historical site of more recent memories, 
the railway carried me to Krasnowodsk. From there I crossed the 
Caspian to Baku, and finally, after long and tiring days in the 
train (via Petrovsk, Rostoff, Podwoloezyska,; Cracow, Berlin) I 
arrived in London on July 2, 1901. 

There I had the satisfaction of depositing the antiquities un- 
earthed from the desert sands in the British Museum as a safe 
temporary resting-place. Neither they nor my eight hundred odd 
photographic negatives on glass had suffered by the long journey. 
It was for me finis longe charteque vieque, but also the com- 
mencement of a period of toil, the more trying because the physical 
conditions under which it had to be done were so different from 
those I had gone through. 


Owing to the great extent of the collections I had succeeded in 
bringing back, the task of arranging and cataloguing proyed a very 
exacting one. As the period of six weeks’ deputation in England 
originally sanctioned by the Government of India for this purpose 
proved wholly insufficient, the Secretary of State for India was pleased 
to extend it by another period of six weeks. I had every reason to 
feel grateful for this concession; but it was only at the cost of great 
exertions and through the devoted help of my friend, Mr. F. H. 
Andrews, that I succeeded in accomplishing the temporary arrange- 
ment of my collection and the preparation of a ‘ Preliminary 
Report ” during the allotted period. 

When this urgent task was concluded by the close of September, 
I felt glad that my impending return to India for ordinary duty 
as Inspector of Schools in the Punjab promised at least a change 


502 FROM KHOTAN TO LONDON [CHAP, XXXIII. 


and temporary respite. The busy weeks spent mainly in the base- 
ment rooms which the authorities of the British Museum had 
very kindly offered for the first accommodation of my collections, 
seemed to me a time of immurement for the sake of science. 
How often have I not, then and since, wished myself back in the 


freedom and peace of the desert! 


KIRGHIZ FAMILY ON THE MARCH. 


om -Kharum M. 
*Akkash 


| | gi ie i 


38 


MAP SHOWING PORTIONS OF 


37 
Surveyed under the direction, and with the assistance,of 
| M. A. STEIN, Ph.D., 
H.Ms Indian Educational Service, 
Sy Sup surveyor S$... RW. 
Survey of India Department, 
1900-1901. 
\ From the Map on the Scale of 1 : 760,000, published by the 
Surveyor General of India. 
SCALE OF MILES 
re) 10 20 30 a0 50 60 70 “Bo “90 


Route 


Natural Scale 1: 1,500,000 or 23°67 miles to 1 inch. 


Heights in feet. 


36 Newly triangulated points 


+—__—_ Survey 


Dawan 
J. Jilga 
Karaul 
Kuh. 
Kum . 


” ” 


Other heights... . . . 
Cultinathion . es 
Sandy tract with scrub or jungle . Light Green. 
Moving Sands. 


Pabeas 

Valley 
. Watch Station — 
. Lake 

Sandhill * 


Kurghan. Fort 


eee eee ———_ —— SEE ————— 
| 75 76 


By permissuor. of the Royal Geographical Society 


ce 


Ancient Sites . KARADONG 


we le 8 A 12000 
im eS A 17000 
Oe 9760 


. . Dark Green. 


vis. -«  Metlow, 


Lr. Langar. Rest House 

M. Mazar . Tomb 

Oghil. . . Shepherds Station 
Vagh . . . Hill, Peak 
Ustang . . Canal 


100 


THE GEOGRAPHICAL JOURNAL 1902 


- 4 
KSIPIL RUINS as 
KIGH wu K 


a or|Tsanpo 


Brahma 2. we 


Scale of Miles. | 


100 200 300 
20,000,000 or 316 m=l inch, 


fo) 
Nat. Scale 1; 


PORTIONS OF | 
KHOTAN OASIS 


Seale of Miles. 


0 1 2 Wo cea 
Nat. Scale 1:250,000 or 3-9 miles=1 inch. 


RUINED STUPA 
ENDE £ RUINS < 


To Cherchen 


ise noauinaia KUM 


BN 


R, 
Sag 


a 


SSStse-y 


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Til 


=— 


SS Stet: 


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=. 


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i 
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Stanford’s Geog’ Estab! London. 


Blank Page Digitally Inserted 


INDEX 


NOTES.—Transcription. The spelling of Oriental names and terms 
in the text and Index conforms to the system of phonetic transliteration 
approved by the International Congress of Orientalists and adopted, in a 
simplified form, for Indian Government publications. No use, however, 
has been made of diacritical marks which would appear out of place in a 
book intended for the general reader. 

In the Index an endeavour has been made by a uniform use of hyphens 
to distinguish the component parts of Turki words whenever clearly 
traceable. In the text the use of such hyphens has been restricted. 

ABBREVIATIONS. The following abbreviations have been employed to 
mark, where desirable, the derivation of Oriental words: A. Arabic; Ch. 
Chinese; I. Indian; P. Persian; Pr. Prakrit; S. Sanskrit; T. Turki. 


Apsput Karim, 411 Ajanta, caves, frescoes of, xvi, 294 
Abdul Kasim, Mullah, 130 Akhun Beg, of Khotan, 199, 206, 249 
Abdullah, of Keriya, 338, 370 ak, “white,” T. 

Abdullah Khan, 332 sqq. Ak-Langar, 194 
Abdurrahman, mendicant, 410 Ak-robat, 159 
Ab-i-Panja R., 56, 63 ak-sakal, ‘‘ white-beard”’ (head- 
Abu-Bakr, Mirza, excavations of, man), T. 
268 sq. Ak-sipil, site of, 447; remains of, 
accounts, of travelling expenses, 177; 448 sq. 
records of ancient, 399 ak-su, ‘white water,” T., flood 
Achchik, 152 from melting snows, 185, 426 
Achma, 443 Ak-su R. (near Kashgar), 119 
administration, ancient records of, Ak-su Valley, on Pamir, 72 
399 sqq. Ak-tash Sahib, Ziarat of, 53 
affidavits, ancient, 400 Aktaz, ruined site of, 436 
Afghan, territory on Pamir, 62 ak-tiken, a shrub, T., 351 
Afghans, at Khotan, 198, 486; alle- Ak-tiken, name of Karadong site, 
giance to ‘ Sahibs,’ 332 354, 426 
Afridis, known to Herodotus, 16 Ak-tiken-Bel, Pass, 113 
Agra, 500 ak-wi, ‘‘ white hut” (felt hut), T., 
Ahmad Din, Munshi, 476 64, 67 
Ahmad Merghen, of Tawakkel, 248, Alai, mountains, 95, 495 sq., 498 
272, 280, 327 Alféld, reminiscences of, 153 
Aiding-kul, marsh, 268 sq. Aliabad, 36 sq. ; 
Ajab Khan, Raja, orderly, 52, 98, Alia Beg, 116 
100, 102, 106 | Ali Padshah, 267 


503 


504 


Allama, 264 

Allen, Mr. P. S., help of, xxv 
alluvial fans, 21, 108 sq., 224 
alluvium, layer of, 262 

Altit, 42 

Amalaka, S., ornament, 299 
Amb, 25 


Amban, title of district officer, in | 


Chinese Turkestan 

Amban, of Karghalik, 174 sqq. ; of 
Khotan, see Pan-Darin ; of Keriya, 
see Huang-Daloi; of Sarikol, 70, 
WAESO me 1o 

Ambanships, division of, 313 

anadilekha, ‘‘ rescript,”’ Pr., 402 

Anandasena, monk, 400 

Anchar Lake, 7 

ancient cities, supposed, xxi 

ancient site, see Niya 

Andijan, 498 sq. 

Andijanis, 134; at Khotan, 486 

Andrews, Mr. Fred. H., assistance 
rendered by, xxiii sq., 294, 308, 
393, 396, 501 

Annals, Chinese, notices about 
Khotan, xvii; data about jade, 
255 

anthropological measurements, 487 

antiques, found at Yotkan, 259 sqq. ; 
sold at Khotan, 247 sq., 250 

antiquities, transported, 491, 495; 
deposited in British Museum, 501 

aptabas (water jugs), P., 166 

araba, ‘‘ cart,” T., 119 

Arabic language, spread of, 36 


Arctic stove, Stormont-Murphy, use | 


of, 90, 276 

Arhat (Buddhist saint), hidden in 
sacred cave, 244 sq.; Hiuen- 
Tsiang regarded as an, 
miracles of, 265 

Arhats, mention of, 402; shown 
within halo, 459 

ariks, irrigation canals, ancient, 447 

Arish-Mazar, 435 

Arka-kuduk Tim, Stupa, 444 

arm-chair, ancient, 377 

armour, details of ancient, 291 

Arslan Boghra Sultan, legend of, 
157 sq. 

art, Indian, transplanted to Khotan, 
xy, 294; see Buddhist 

artist, a Chinese, 137 

art-ware, old Turkestan, 164, 166 
sq. 


249; | 


INDEX 


Astor, chief place of, 21; Rajas of, 
21; territory, 17; Valley, 20, 25 

Ataabad, 43 

At-bashi, 271 

atmosphere, clearness of, 346, 408, 
423: see haze, dust, buran 

aul, “camp,” T., 81 

avenues, ancient, 321 sq. 

Aylmer, Colonel, B.£., 30 


Baby, the British, 24 

Bactria, 63; classical art in, 397, 
465 

Badakhshan, 63, 72, 411 

Badakhshanis, at Yarkand, 165 

Badruddin Khan, trader of Khotan, 
198, 202 sq., 206, 269, 445, 473, 
485; MSS. purchased through, 
309, 312, 477; his trade informa- 
tion, 486 ; farewell to, 488 

Bahadur Shah, Munshi, 123 

Bahram-su, 487 

bai, ‘‘ capitalist,” T., 215, 227, 340, 
426; Bais work jade-pits, 254 

Baikhan, ruined site (?), 153 sq. 

Bajauris, 486 

Bajin, T. name for Peking, 77, 124, 
177 

Baku, 501 

Baltis, people, 41 

Baltistan, 22, 32 

Baltit, 40 sqq. 

bamboos, used for writing, 425 

Bandipur, port of, 11, 13 

Baramula, 4 

barber, of Tawakkel, 273 

Barnett, Mr. D. L., 417 

base, of statue, 287 

Basik-kul, lake, 84 sqq., 107 

Batur glacier, 48 sq. 

Bazars, for weekly markets, 172 

beda (lucerne), 'T’., 116 

Bekhtauruk, 153 

bel, ‘‘ ridge,” ‘‘ pass,” T. 

Bel-kum, 192 

Bengal, Local Government of, ix 

Berjash (Berdasht), Pass, 78 

besh, ‘‘ five,” T. 

Besh-arik, 180 

Besh-karim, 141, 144 sq. 

Besh-toghrak, 339 

Bhurja (birchbark) MSS., of Kash- 
mir, 204 

Biafo glacier, 32 

bichlorate of potash, 100 


INDEX 505 


birchbark, forged MS. on, 204; used 
for writing, 367 

Bizil, 207 

Bizin, market of, 485 sq. 

block-prints, supposed ancient, 183; 
forgeries of, 205 sq., 471 sqq., 
477 sq.; in European libraries, 
480 

boards, for fastening MSS., 321 

Bodhisattva, Hiuen-Tsiang regarded 
as a, 249; person addressed as 
‘* Bodhisattva incarnate,” 402 

- Bodhisattvas, colossal statues of, 
453, 459; frescoes of, 284 sqq., 
320; paintings of, 290 

bonds, ancient, 315 

bones, remains of, 261 sq. 

boot-lasts, ancient, 407 

boots, in ancient paintings, 318 
sq.; in ancient sculpture, 462; 
removal of,- 246 

Borazan, canton, 484 sq. 

bostan, *‘ arbour,” P., 143, 160 

Bostan Langar, 332 sq. 

bow, ancient, 374 

Bowa-Kambar, Ziarat of, 267 

Bower, Col., MS. find of, xv 

Bozai Gumbaz, 63 

Brahmi, ancient Indian script, 248, 
295 sqq., 800, 308 sqq., 314, 321, 
327, 414 sqq. ; unique tablet in, 
404, 407 

Braldo Valley, 32, 38 

Bretherton, Capt. C. H., 5, 12 

bricks, sun-dried, construction with, 
262, 320; size of, 448 

bridges, built with wire, 30 

Bridges-Lee photo-theodolite, 60 

British Museum, antiquities de- 
posited in, 501 sq. 

Brinjak Pass, 228 sqq. 

brooms, ancient, 290 

Buchvor, 7 

Buddha, teaching of, xiv; body 
relics of, 265; colossal statue of, 
287, 453 sqq.; figure of seated 
Buddha, 459; figure: of teaching 
B., 282; miraculous images of, 
267, 463; statue of, 191, 288; 
coming of Maitreya B., 244 

Buddhas, mentioned in tablets, 

402; frescoes of, 284 sqq.; paint- 
ing of, 820; statues of, 414 

Buddhagosha, 400 

Buddhism, 128; spread of, xiv; 


brought to China, 181; eccle- 
siastical language of, 403; 
referred to in Kharoshthi tablets, 
402 

Buddhist art, influenced from 
Persia, xviii; Buddhist canon, 
xix, 297; translations, 310; 
Buddhist church, of Central 
Asia, 310; Buddhist convent, 
in China, 493 ; Buddhist frescoes, 
278 sq.; Buddhist iconography, 
462; Buddhist legends, survival 
of, 196; Buddhist monk, from 
China, 178; Buddhist mythology, 
in paintings, 290 sqq.; Buddhist 
prayers, in Tibetan, 416; Bud- 
dhist scholar, representation of, 
293; Buddhist shrine, replaced 
by Mazar, 245; Buddhist temple, 
314 

Buddhists, of Khotan, 195 sqq. 

bulak, ‘‘ spring,” T. 

Bulak, 331 

Bulun-kul, 86, 88, 108 sq. 

Bunji, 25 sq. 

Bunyad Ali, Munshi, 162, 165 sqq. 

buran, ‘‘sand-storm,’” T., first ex- 
perience of, 428 sq.; return of, 
433; 443, 446, 450 sqq. ; shifting 
direction of, 450; 455, 468, 490; 
buries Ho-lo-lo-kia, 430 

Burden, Capt. H., 27 

Burhanuddin Padshahim, shrine 
(Mazar), 331, 426, 435 

Burisheski, language, 34 

burning of dead, pré-Muhammadan, 
24 

burse (a grass), 61 

Burzil Pass, 16 sqq.; Valley, 11 

Busat, Valley, 217 

Bushell, Dr. 8. W., xxv, 404 

Buya, Valley, 209 


Catcurra, 2 sq. 


camels, fed on oil, 273; grazing of, 
324; in desert, 328; riding of, 
319; purchase of, 123; sale of, 
492; camels, ancient painting of, 
319 

camel-men, 124 , 

camp furniture, 176; repairs of, 
125; disposal of, 498; see equip- 
ment 

capital, of old Khotan, 256 sqq., 
see Yotkan 


506 


caravan, organisation of, 122 sqq. ; 
demobilisation of, 492 

carpets, ancient, 377; of Khotan, 
4: 


castle, of Hunza chief, 40 sqq. 

Cathay, 339 

cave, sacred to Buddhist legend, 
244 sqq. 

cella, of shrine, 281, 282, 284 

cemeteries, low position of, 263 sq. 

Centaurs, reminiscence of, 379 


Central-Asia, ancient civilisation of, . 


xiv sqq.; Buddhism in, 403; 
Buddhist art. in, 320; classical 
art in, xvii; historical associa- 
tions of, 499; monuments of, 
500; Central-Asian imports, in 
Hunza, 42 

cereals, antique, 433 

chair, ancient carved, 376 

Chaitya ornament, 42 

Chalbash, 257 

Chalma-kazan, site of, 252 

Chalt, 30 

Chang-Darin, Amban, 175 sqq. 

Chankul Pk., 230 

Chaparsun R., 53 

chappans (long coats), T., 332 

charas, drug, effects of, 383 sq. 

charcoal, ancient, 301 

charuks (mocassins), T., 231, 246, 
319, 406; in old relievo, 291 

Charvak, 173 

Chash, 231 sq. 

chaugans (tea-jugs), T., 166 

Chavannes, Prof. K., xxv, 405, 418 

Cheng-yuen, Chinese period, 418 

Cherchen, 409, sq.; route to, 423 


sq. 

Chien-chung, Chinese period, 312, 
315 

Chien-ying, priest, 315 

chilapehis (water-basins), T’., 166 

Chilas, hillmen of, 23 

Chillinji Pass, 53 

Chillum Chauki, 19 

China, ancient route to, 181; its 
political control over Khotan, 
xvii; its relations with Hunza, 
38 ; troubles in, 64, 168 

Chinar Bagh, of Srinagar, 4 

Chinese administration, 127; ob- 
struction feared from, xii; with- 
drawn from E. Turkestan, 418 ; 
Chinese cantonment,135 ; Chinese 


INDEX 


civilisation, influence of, xvii; 
Chinese coins, see coins ; Chinese 
dinner, 168; Chinese documents, 
ancient, 314 sqq.; on wood, 404 ; 
Chinese documents in Hunza, 39 ; 
Chinese frontier administration, 
74; Chinese frontier guards, 54; 
Chinese frontier posts, see Karaul ; 
Chinese, historical sense in, xxi 
sq., 470 ; Chinese interpreter, see 
Niaz Akhun ; Chinese legends, on 
Khotan coins, 261; Chinese 
mendicants, 251; Chinese MS. 
finds, 311 sqq., 404 sqq., 416; 
Chinese Munshi, 126; Chinese 
official garb, 332 sq.; Chinese 
pilgrims, travels of, in India and 
Central-Asia, xiv; Chinese post 
office, 205 ; Chinese priest, 185 ; 
Chinese records, discovery of 
ancient, 310 sqq.; Chinese seal, 
397; Chinese graffito, 418 sq. ; 
Chinese soldiers, 73 sq., 81 sq., 
109; Chinese sovereignty, in E. 
Turkestan, 405; Chinese temple, 
at Kashgar, 133 

Chini-Bagh, of Kashgar, 121 sqq., 
140, 491 

Chini-Bagh, of Yarkand, 163 sqq., 
491 

‘¢Chin and Machin,” king of, 146 

Chira, oasis of, 313, 443 

Chira, stream, 323 

chiravastra, term for mendicants’ 
garb, S., 293 

Chitral, campaign in, 39; refugees 
from, 74 

Chodbo, ancient title, 400 

Chogalma, 332 

Cholak Langar, 181 sq. 

Christianity, at Kashgar, 148 

Christmas Day, in desert, 307, 313 

Chronicles, Chinese, 252, 254; of 
Kashmir Kings, 6 

chronology, unknown system of, 
309 

Chudda, 190 

Chu-kuan (City prefect), Ch., of 
Kashgar, 133 

circumyallation, ancient, 420 sq. 

civilisations, mingling of, vii 

classical art, in Central Asia, xvii 
sq.; influence of, 320; in Khotan, 
397: classical seal impressions, 
396 sq. 


INDEX 507 


clothing for winter campaign, 276 

coins, ancient Chinese, 279 ; ancient 
Khotan coins, 260 sq.; Chinese 
copper coins, 170; finds at Ak- 
sipil, 448; finds at Endere, 419 ; 
finds at Hanguya, 444; finds at 
Kara-dong, 432; finds at Rawak 
Stupa, 453, 465; coins of Han 
dynasty, 377, 404; coins of Tang 
dynasty, 252 

** collecting,” dangers of, xxi 

colossal statues, excavated at 


Rawak, 451 sqq., 459 sqq.; frag-_ 


ments of, 450 

colouring, of relievo sculpture, 455 

colours, of stucco relievos, 282 

Columbarium, resemblance to, 148 

cook-room, ancient, 300 sq. 

Cordier, Prof. Henzri, xiii 

Corpus Christi College, Oxford, xxv 

corvée, 162 

Cotton, Mr. J. S., help of, xxv 

cotton-prints, ancient, 419 

cover of book, design for, 282 

criminals, banished to Karanghu- 
tagh, 215; punishment of, 198 

cultivation, causes rise of ground, 
263 ; shifting of its area, 437 sq. 

culture-strata, of Yotkan, 262 Sq. ; 
of Tam-éghil, 447 

currants, excavated, 433 

currency, in EK. Turkestan, 169 

Curzon of Kedleston, Lord, Viceroy 
of India, sanctions Stein’s ex- 
plorations, ix, xxiii; identifies 
Oxus source, 60, 63 

Customs, antiques passed through, 
493 

customs, of Gilgit tribes, 23 


Dacurn, copper coins called, 170 

Dafdar, 67 

Dashkin, 22 

dak, ‘* mail,” I., arrival or despatch 
of, 43, 64, 70, 86, 104, 107, 177, 
205, 247, 306, 324, 341, 407, 410, 
424, 433; to Gilgit, 18 

Dal Lake, 7 

Dandan-Uiliq, ruined siteof, 248 sq. ; 
ancient name of, 312 sqq.; start 
for, 271 sq. ; march to, 275 sqq. ; 
ruined houses of, 278  sqq.; 
painted panels of, 290 sqq. ; fres- 
coes of, xvi; fixing of its position, 
302 sq.; scantiness of its struc- 


tures, 822; date of its abandon- 
ment, 317i". "ause.= of); 1te 
abandonment, 3823; ancient 
irrigation at, 323; departure from, 
327 sq.; timber at, 431; MSS. 
from, 476 

Dangalchi, 150 

Darband ( gateway ”’), 50 

Dards, people, 15; race of, 16; 
games of, 20; rebellions of, 28; 
type of, 34 


- Darel, 25 


Darin (for Ta-jen), title, Ch., 167 

darogha, ‘‘ messenger,” ‘‘ agent,” P. 

ne Ane see Islam Beg 

Darogha, see Ibrahim Akhun 

dasht, ‘‘waste plain,” ‘stony 
desert,” P., 69, 158 sq., 180, 186, 
192 sqq., passim 

dastar-khan, ‘ collation,” P., 141 

dates, in Kharoshthi documents, 
391; of Chinese records, 317 

dawan, ‘‘pass,” “large sand dune,’ 
T., 277 sq., 329 sqq., passim 

dead trees, in desert, 351 sq., 353, 
407, 431 

Deasy, Capt. H. H. P., explorations 
ite Ee ley By bre Oey 
218, 251, 302, 471, 473, 480 

débris, ancient, 188 sqq. ; see Tatis 

Delhi, 500 

Deosai, plateau, 18 

desert, see Taklamakan ; advance of 
dunes in, 323 sq.; dead trees in, 
278, 280; transport for, 273 

Detailed Report, on Stein’s explora- 
tions, xxiii 

detritus, 231, 242 

devaputra, title, S., 400 

Dharma, Buddhist canon, S., 300 

dibira, ‘* clerk,” S., 400 

die, ancient, 406 

dihkan, ‘‘ cultivator,” P., 116, 411 

dildung, a grass, 61 

disintegration of rocks, 210, 241 

divorce, in E. Turkestan, 488 

diwanas (beggars), P., 186, 342 

‘ddbe,’ debe, ‘‘mound,” T.; of 
Somiya, 265 sq. 

Débe-Bostan, 347 

Dochenko, M., 496 

documents, ancient, in unknown 
language, 308 sqq. ; in Karoshthi, 
358 sqq.; in Chinese, 311 sqq., 
404 sqq. 


508 


Dogras, conquest by, 31; military 
service of, 30 


Domoko, Begship of, 437; irrigation | 
in, 324; old site of, 437; stream | 


of, 323 
Dost-bulak, 154 
Douglas, Prof. R. K., xxv, 311, 315 
doves, sacred, 195 
dragons, representing Nagas, 135 
dranga, ‘‘ frontier watch station,” 
S., 402 
drangadharas, officials, 8., 402 
dress, details of ancient, 462 sq. 
Dudarhom, 6 
dust, in atmosphere, 238, 244, 423 


Dutreuil de Rhins, M., MS. find of, |. 
viii, 244 sq., 344, 360 sqq.; | 


visits Ak-sipil, 448 
Duyan, 22 sq. 
Dvarapalas, statues of, 460 sq. 


Earrrquake, in Sarikol, 73 ; in Andi- 
jan, 499 

Eastern ‘Turkestan, historical 
accounts of, 127; modern ad- 
ministration of, see Chinese 

eating-houses, at Karghalik, 176 

eating-sticks, ancient, 377 

Egypt, climate of Turkestan resem- 
bles, xxi 

Ekki-bel-su, R., 90, 107 

embroidery, Chinese, 167; ancient, 
463 

Endere, ruined site of, 409, 413 
sqq.; Stupa of, 413; circumyal- 
lation of, 414; temple excavated 
at, 414 sq. ; departure from, 423 

Endere colony, abandoned, 413 | 

Endere R., shifting course of, 412 
sq.; forest-belt of, 412, 423 

envelopes, of inscribed tablets, 358, 
365, 392 sq. 

equipment, 3, 7; see camp 

Eros, represented on ancient clay- 
seals, xvii, 396 

erosion, by water, 234 

erosion, by wind, 188 sqq., 322, 421 
sq.; creates depressions, 275, 278, 
307, 326, 352, 355, 367 sq., 421 sq., 
444; destructive to ruins, 430 sq., 
436, 439 sq. 

Eskente, 265 

Eski, 148 

etiquette, Chinese, 127; in Chinese 
architecture, 334 


INDEX 


excavation, difficulties of, 455 sq. ; 
implements for, 273 

ex-votos, of coins, 465; of painted 
panels, 290 sqq.; of rags, 79, 
348; of shreds, 419; of Tibetan 
MSS., 416 sq.; offered to sacred 
pigeons, 489 


Faprics, excavation of ancient woven, 


387, 406, 419 

Fa-hien, Chinese pilgrim, 260; 
visits Stupa of Sa-mo-joh, 265 

faience, ancient Chinese, 406 

Faizabad, 411 

falcons, emblems of dignity, 274 

Far East, art of Khotan transmitted 
to, xvii. 

Farghana, start for, 495 ; fertility 
of, 498 

felt, ancient, 299 

felt-hut, see ak-ui, kirgha, yurt 

felt-rugs, ancient, 402; of Khotan, 
153 

felt-socks (Paipaks), 176 

fen, monetary value, 169 

fence, ancient, 305 

fields, abandoned to desert, 437 sq. ; 
rise in level of, 263 

figurines, in terra-cotta, 260, 262 

fig-leaf, substitute for, 292 

fire-place, ancient, 300, 314, 355, 
364, 420; modern, 437 

fodder, antique, 305 

folk-lore, about Taklamakan, 439 ; 
quaint custom of ancient, 463 sq. 

forest, along Khotan R., 271; see 
jungle 

forging of ‘* old books,” at Khotan, 
204, 471 sqq.; details of process, 
478 sq. 

Forster, G., travels of, 150 

Forsyth, Sir D., 129 

fortification, ancient, at Endere, 
420; at Uzun-tati, 440; at Ak- 
sipil, 448 

‘Four Garrisons,” Ch. name for E. 
Turkestan, 418 ; 

framework, of stucco statue, 284 

frescoes, Buddhist, at Dandan-Uiliq, 
248, 278, 291 sqq.; in ancient 
residence, Niya site, 373; at 
Endere, 420; of Buddhas, 284 
sqq. 

frontier-post, ancient, 420, 432 

fruit, at Kashgar, 129; at Kizil, 159 


INDEX 509 


fruit-trees, ancient, 296, 379 
Fu-tai, at Urumchi, 470 


GapHot, 20 


Gandhara, Peshawar Valley, the 
ancient, xvi; art of, 449; sculp- 
tures of, 352, 407 

Gandharvi, figure of, 282 

Ganesha, painting of, 290, 420 

garden, plan of ancient, 379 

Gardner, Prof. Perey, xxiv 

“* Gates, Masters of the,’ 13 

Gauri Mall, Lala, 169 

German officer, on Pamir, 65 

Gez defile, 88, 105, 109 sqq. 

Gez Jilga, 226 

Gez Karaul, 111 

Ghadghang, 339 

Ghalchah dialects, 309 

Ghan, 68 

Gharib-chakma, 328 

Ghazi Sheikh, 426 sq. 

Ghujak, 79 

Ghujak-bai, 66 sq. 

Ghujak Masjid, 180 

Ghulan Pass, 78 

Ghulkin glacier, 47 

Ghulmit, 45 sqq. 

Ghun, Hunza guide, 97, 100 sqq. 

gilding, of ancient statues, 260, 326 

Gilgit, Agency at, 27 sq.; language 
of, 34; mail service to, 18; River 
of, 26; Transport Road to, 5, 12; 
Valley of, 26 sqq. 

Gircha, 50 

glass, ancient, 191, 405 

Gobi, z.e., Taklamakan desert, 201 

Godwin-Austen, Mt., 77 

Gok-tepe, 501 

gold, figurine in, 259; gold found 
at Yotkan, 258 sqq.; in Khotan 
rivers, 235; washed from Yotkan 
soil, 258 sqq., 264; gold-dust, 
washed from rivers, 259; gold- 
leaf, discovery of, 463 sq. 

Gor, 24 

Gorai, rest-house, 15 

Gore, Col. St. George, x, 8, 494 

Gosringa Mt., Buddhist site of, 
244 sqq. 

Govind Kaul, Pandit, 126 

Greco-Buddhist art, reproduced in 
Khotan, xvi; Greco-Buddhist 
sculpture, 292, 407, 449, 460, 465 


graffiti, 417 sqq. 

grapes, of Ujat, 247 

Greek deities, on seals, 396 sq. ; 
Greek writing, on Indus, 409 

Grenard, M., 244, 264, 448 

ground level, changed by irrigation, 
438; rise of, 132; raised through 
cultivation, 263, 271 

Guhyal (Wakhan), 45 

Guhyal, Little, 45 

Gujan, 198 

Gujars (cattleherds), 17; of Kashmir, 


gulach (fathom), T., 340 

Gulakhma, guides from, 435 sqq. ; 
irrigation in, 324; oasis of, 441 ; 
shifting of cultivated area of, 437 
sq.; stream of, 323 

Gulcha, 496 sq. 

Guma, oasis, 183 sqq. 

gumbaz (dome), P., 76; name for 
Stupa, 146 : 

Gupta, characters called, 297, 300 

Gurez, villages of, 15, 16 

Gurikot, 21 


Hat Bar, 98 

haji (Mecca pilgrim), A., 499 

Hajib Langar, 183 

hakim (medicine-man), A., 75; fame 
as, 251 

Hakim Shah, 211 

Halalbagh, 268 sq., 484 

halos, of Buddhist saints, 290, 308; 
of relievos, 455 sq. ; representation 
of saints in, 459 

Han dynasty, coins of, 327, 375, 
419, 448, 453, 465 sq. 

Hanguya, ruins beyond, 444 

Haramukh, Mount, 6, 13 

Hasa, 443 

Hasa, near Guma, 184 sq. 

Hasa, near Moji, 191 

Hasa-Tam, site of, 144 

Hasha, 268 

Hassan Akhun, camel-man, 124, 
343, 382 sq. 

hat, in ancient painting, 319 

Hatu Pir, 25 

haze, in Khotan mountains, 243 

Hazrat-Apak’s shrine, 141 

Hazrat-Begim, 157 sq. 

Hazrat-Sultan, 144 

Hedin, Dr. Sven, explorations of, 


510 


ix, 84, 92, 93, 98, 108, 149, 191, 

248, 275, 324, 426, 428, 469, 477 
hemp, in ancient string, 393 
Hendricks, Father, 132 


Herodotus, knows Dards and 
Afridis, 16 
Hindu, followers, 302; money- 


lenders in E. Turkestan, 130, 
150 sq. 

Hindukush, 15 

Hindustani, spread of, 36 

Hiuen-Tsiang, Chinese pilgrim, his 
interest in spiritual objects, xiv ; 
claimed as patron, xxii; routes 
followed by, 2, 72; visits to 
Buddhist countries, 128; see 
Tang-Seng, ib.; 135, 137, 159, 
167, 176, 181; his birth-place, 
182, 191; records local cult, 195, 
201; mentions Mt. Gosringa, 244 
sqq.; describes shrines of Khotan, 
264 sqq., 267; relates legend of 
Nagini, 293; legend of holy rats, 
308; knew legends about Takla- 
makan, 323; his Si-yu-ki, 337; 
mentions Niya, 342; refers to me- 
morial towers, 387; his etymology 
of name Khotan, 402; records 
tradition about colonisation of 
Khotan, 403; refers to ‘ Kham,’ 
419; relates legend of Ho-lo-lo- 
kia, 430, 438; visits Pi-mo, 434 
sqq.; his records confirmed, 463 ; 
records pious custom, 489 

historical geography, survey work 
needed for, x 

Hiung-nu (Huns), legend of, 195 

Ho-lo-lo-kia, legend of, 323, 480, 
438 

Hoernle, Dr. A. F. Rudolf, forms 
collection of Central-Asian anti- 
quities, viii ; assistance rendered 
by, ix, xxiv; 176, 300; deciphers 
non-Indian language, 308 sqq. ; 
475, 480 

homesteads, plans of ancient, 370 

Ho-nan, province, 182 

horse, painting of, 319 sq.; horse 
millinery, ancient, 319 

horse-combs, wooden, 406 

Howell, Capt. KE. A. R., 28 

Hsien-kuan (City prefect), Ch., 140, 
144 

Hsie-tai (general), Ch., 128 sq. 

Huang-Daloi, Amban of Keriya, 333 


INDEX 


sqq.; first visit to, 335; his 
interest in Tang-seng, 336; his 
help, 338, 410; his historical 
sense, 425; 426, 434: farewell visit 
to, 441 sqq. 5 ; assistance rendered 
by, Xx 

Hu-kuo, ancient monastery, 315 
sqq., 320 

Humayun, Wazir, 38 

Hu-nan, province, 169, 493 

Hungary, eminiscences of, 68, 131, 
1538 

Huns, attack Khotan, 195 

hunters, of Tawakkel, 272 

Hunza, chiefs of, 32, 38 sqq. ; 
their castle, 29, 41 sq.; Hunza 
language, 34 sq. ; Hunza levies, 
56; as mountain guides, 95 sqq., 
106 ; Hunza people, their march- 
ing, 51; their prowess, 101 ; their 
race, 35: relations with China, 
39 ; road in, 29 sq. ; Hunza River, 
track along, 42 sqq.; Hunza 
Valley, 27 sqq. 

Hydaspes, the present Jhelam R., 


3 sq. 


Ipranm, villager of Niya, 344, 353, 


354 sq., 857, 364 

Ibrahim Akhun, Darogha, from 
Keriya, 330, 332, 341, 354, 370, 
383, 412, 42 5, 427, 436, 449, 446 

Ibrahim Mullah, ‘* treasure- seeker,’ 
268, 476 

ice, for water-supply, 350, 410, 412 

ice-pit, ancient, 370 

iconography, Buddhist, 462 

Igrikyék, 81 

Ichi, city of Khotan, 313 

Tlegorum, 110 

Imam Jafar Sadik,Mazar, pilgrimage | 
to, 331, 344 sqq.; its shrines, 347 
sq.; tomb of, 349; labourers 
from, 372; return to, 409 sqq. 

Imam Musa Kasim, shrine of, 267 ; 
market of, 486 

Imam Shakir Padshah, 195 

Imams, worshipped at Khotan, 268 

implements, ancient household, 
xviii 

India, influence of classical art in, 
397; classical languages of, xv; 
Greco-Buddhist art in, 465; 
Khotan colonised from, 403 ; 
ruins on N.W. frontier of, xx 


INDEX 


India, Government of, acquires 
Central-Asian antiquities, viii ; 
sanctions Stein’s explorations, ix ; 
thanked by Orientalist Congress, 
xiii; enables Stein to elaborate 
results, xxiii 

Indian Caucasus, 228 

Indian influences, border line of, 
422; Indian shrines, visits to, 
246 

Indo-Iranian dialect, 309 ; 

Indo-Scythians, named in Kha- 
roshthi tablets, 404; Indo- 
Scythian kings, 358, 400 

Indus, course of, 22; route in Valley 
of, 25 

industries, of ancient Khotan, xviii, 
374 sqq. 

inscribed wooden tablets, first dis- 
covery of, 355 sqq.; shapes and 
construction of, 357 sqq.; preser- 
vation of, 358; contents of, 361; 
dates on, 365; sealed envelopes 
of, 365 ; withered specimens, 370 ; 


more finds, 368, 3874; blank 
stationery, 375; from ancient 
rubbish heap, 385 sqq.; with 


Chinese characters, 385; techni- 
calities of wedge-shaped tablets, 
392 sqq.; fastening of oblong 
tablets, 394 sqq.; classical seals 
on, 396 sq.; decipherment of 
contents, 398 sqq.; chronological 
evidence of Chinese tablets, 404 

inscriptions, in Brahmi characters, 
286 ; in Chinese and Tibetan, 417 
sqq. 

Tran, ancient, 501; linguistic borders 
of, 45 

Iranian race, 166; physical type of, 
46 


Irkeshtam, 495 sq. 


irrigation in Hunza, 34, 38, 47; on | 


Tagharma, 77; 192, 487; from 
Niya R., 345 sq.; from springs, 
438; from Yar-tungaz R., 411 
sq.; abandonment of, 323 sq. ; 
causes silt deposits, 263 sq. ; 
difficulties about, 437 sq. ; imple- 
ment for, 46; extension of, 162, 
436; possible extension of, 271, 
346; mentioned in Kharoshthi 
tablets, 402; irrigation canals, 
ancient, 321 

Irshad Pass, 53 


511 


Islam, weakness in, 247 

Islam Akhun, ‘ treasure-seeker,” 
183 sq., 189, 205; sells old books, 
471; arrested, 472 ; papers seized 
with him, 472 sq. ; his previous 
impostures, 473; his associates, 
474; his cross-examination, ib. ; 
makes confession, 475 sq.; de- 
scribes forgeries, 477 sqq.; his 
previous punishments, 479 sq. ; 
his slyness and humour, 480 sq. ; 
wishes to visit Europe, 481 

Islam Beg, from Khotan, Darogha, 
214, 226, 238 sqq., 257, 268, 314, 
327 ; promoted Beg of Kara-kash, 
442; 445, 485, 487; farewell to, 
488 

Iskuram Peaks, 230 sq., 238 

Issik-bulak (‘‘ hot spring,” T.), 219, 
229 sq. 

ivory, ancient carving in, 260, 374 ; 
site called “the houses with 
ivory,”’ 248 


Jape, of Khotan, called ‘ yii,’ 255; 


digging of, 252 sqq.; found in 
Yurung-kash R. bed, 207, 251 
sqq. ; profits from, 254; valued 
in China, 252; jade pits, 253 

Jamada, 206, 251 sq. 

Janguruk, gorge, 109 

jar, ancient, 343 

Jasvant Singh, Mian Rajput, 8, 52; 
rejoins in desert, 301 sqq.; his 
ailment, 303; his excellent 
services, 494 

Jesuit surveyors, in China, 116 

Jhelam R., 3 sq. 

jigda, a fruit-tree, T., 431, 436 

jigit, ‘‘ messenger,” T., 496 

jilga, ‘‘ valley,” T. 

Jins, evil spirits of desert, 272, 384 

Jitroghavarshman, king, 400 

Jiya, 450 

Johnson, Mr., map of, 202, 214 

Jumbe-kum, 468 

jungle along Keriya R., 330 sqq. ; 
along Niya R., 350 sq. 


Kapuuis, 486 


Kafirs, i.e., Buddhists, 195 

Kakshal, ‘ Tati’ of, 188 sqq. 

Kai-yuen, Chinese period, 279, 313, 
418 sq. 

Kala, ancient title, 400 


O12 


Kalik Pass, see Kilik 

Kampar-Kishlak Gl., 103 

Kanjur, Tibetan canon, 417 

Kanjut, name for Hunza and Nagir, 
31 

Kanjutis, raids of, 32, 38 

Kaptar-khana, ruin of, 148 

Kaptar-Mazar, 194; legend of, 308 

kara, ‘! black,” 1, 

Kara-débe, 487 


Kara-dong, ancient site of, 354; | 
start for, 426; arrival at, 428 sq.; | 


remains of fortified post, 429 sqq.; 


its purpose, 431; coin finds at, | 


432; gateway, 
from, 433 
Kara-gaz gorge, 226 
Kara-kash R., 197; irrigation from, 


432 ; 


departure | 


2573; upper course of, 225, 237; | 
mountain ranges above, 238, 484; | 


Valley of, 227, 232, 233, 238, 241 


sqq. 

Kara-kash, town, 313, 486 sq.; 
canton of, 485 sqq.; market of, 
486 

Kara-kash Beg, 64 sqq. 

Kara-kir, ridge, 85 sq., 89 sq., 107 

Kara-kir, stream, 435 

Kara-kir, Stupa mound, 192 

Kara-kir Langar, 443 

Kara-korum, spur called, 78 sq. 

Kara-korum Passes, 174, 186, 191, 
203 

Kara-kul, Little, lake, 81, 83 sqq., 
104, 107 

Kara-kul Mazar, 184 sq. 


Karanghu-tagh, Valley, 210, 213 | 
sqq., 225 sq. ; glaciers at head of, . 


226, 229 
Kara-échke-éltiirgan, 413 
Kara-shahr, one of ‘‘ Four Garri- 
sons,” 418 
kara-su, spring flood called, 426 
Kara-su, in Sarikol, 79 sq., 86 
Kara-su, stream, 185, 187 
Kara-tagh-aghzi, or Kara-taghiz, 
185 
Kara-tash Pass, 89, 105 sq. 
karaul, T., watch-station called, 53, 
79, 81, 109, 111, 116 sq. 
karaulchis, 78, 111 sq. 


Karghalik, town, 173 sqq.; Amban | 


of, see Chang-Darin; Bazars of, 


174, 176; E. border of district, | 


192 


INDEX 


karewas, plateaus called, 67 

Karim Beg, 74 

Karm Shah Beg, 83, 86 sqq., 106, 
108 

Kang-sarigh, 341 

Kashgar, approach to, 116, 119; 
stay at, 121 sqq.; threatening 
situation at, 129; craftsmen of, 
125; Russian Consulate at, 131; 
‘‘New City” of, 133 sqq.; first 
start from, 149; return to, 491; 
departure from, 495; ancient 
Kashgar, called Su-le, 404; old 
site of, 132; one of ‘‘ Four Garri- 
sons,”’ 418 

Kashe, 257; Yar of, 268 

Kashmir, stay in, 4 sqq., 13; anti- 
quarian work in, 6 ; antiquities of, 
6; Brahmans of, 391; coolies 
from, 25; Chronicle of Kings of, 
6; connection with Khotan, 293 ; 
lotuses of, 293; Mares of, 496; 
reminiscences of, 495 sqq., 499, 
501; topography of, 6; troops of, 
21, 27, 30, 33 

Kashmiri, language, 52, 166, 486 

Kashmiris, characteristics of, 4, 16 ; 
at Khotan, 486; at Yarkand, 165, 
167 

Kash R., 213 sqq., 217, 224 sqq. 

Kash Valley, glaciers of, 238 

Kasim Akhun, hunter of Tawakkel, 
248, 272, 275, 302, 328 sq., 330 

Kaufmann, Mt., 101, 496 

Kauriik-Bel, 112 

Kauriik-Kurghan, 111 sq., 114, 116 

Kauruk-kuz, 241 sqq., 484 . 

Kayesh, 487 

kazan, ‘“‘ cauldron,” 'T., 87 

Kazan, 496 

Kepek Pass, 115 

Keriya, town, 318, 333 sqq.; start 
from, 339; second stay at, 425; 
farewell visit to, 441 sqq. ; Amban 
of, see Huang-Daloi; Begs of, 
332 sq.; Yamen of, 334 

Keriya R., 275, 280, 301; alleged 
old course of, 324; marches 
along, 330 sqq., 426 sqq.; once 
reached Tarim R., 432; return 
along, 434; marshes of, 426 

K.5, see Kuen-luen Pk. No. 5 

ketman (hoe), T., 273 

Khattri moneylenders, 150 sqq. 

Khaibar, hamlet, 49 sq. 


INDEX. 


Khalche, 257, 262, 264 

Khalkhal-i Chin u Machin, legend 
of, 268 

kham,. cotton fabric called, 349; 
ancient fabric like, 374 

Khan-arik, 149 sqq. 

Kharoshthi, ancient script, docu- 
ments in, xix sq., 245 sq.; coin 
legends in, 261; first documents 
found in, 343 sq., 354; use on 
tablets, 358 ; on Kushana inserip- 
tions, 360; brought to Khotan 
from India, 862; leather docu- 
ments in, 385, 390 sqq. ; decipher- 
ment of Kh. documents, 398 sqq.; 
paleographic evidence of, 404 sq. 

Khan-ui, ancient site, 139, 143 sqq. 

khat, ‘‘ writing,” T., 296 sqq. 

Khayindi, 79 

Khitai, ‘‘ Chinese,” T., 332 

Khotan, oasis and town, first arrival 
at, 194 sqq.; second stay at, 247 
sqq.; third stay at, 269; return 
to, 442; departure from, 490; 
Amban of, see Pan-Darin; Bazars 
of, 483; carpets of, 443; crafts 
of, 483 ; cultivators’ dwellings in, 
322; diseases at, 251; felts of, | 
340; industries of, 167,-402 ; jade 
of, 252 sqq.; local worship of, 
246, 267; longitude of, 243 ; 
‘Old and New Towns” of, 483, 
486; petty trade in, 485 sq.; | 
rivers of, 197; rural, 487; Tanga 
of, 170; W. boundary of, 194; | 

History of Khotan: Abu-Bakr’s | 
rule at, 268; ancient art of, Xvi; 
ancient capital of, 203, 256 sqq., 
267 ; ancient designation of, 313 asl 
ancient industries of, xviii; 
ancient language at, xix; ancient | 
names of, 402; archeological | 
interest of, xv ; Buddhist cult in, 
195 sq.; Buddhist genius loci, 
487; Buddhist pilgrimage place 
of, 244; Buddhist shrines of, 
264; Buddhist temples of, 260; | 
Chinese call Khotan Yii-tien, 255 : 
Chinese influence at, xvii; classi- 
cal art in, 396; classical: seals 
used at, xvii; coins of Khotan 
with Kharoshthi legends, 344; | 
‘Four Garrisons,’ Khotan one of, 
418; Greco-Buddhist art in, 465; 


historical connection with Kash- | 


34 


518 


mir, 293; historical importance 
of, xv; Indian art in, 320; prince 
of, in China, xvii; ruined cities 
of, xvi; ‘Six Cities” of, 318 ; 
tradition of its colonisation from 
Taxila, 403 
Khotan people, love lotteries, 

255; pilgrimages of, 267; pros- 
pecting for gold, 258; racial 
amalgam of, 486 

Khotana, ancient name of Khotan, 
402 

Khudabad, 50 sqq. 

Khunjerab Pass, 67 

Khunjerab R., 53 

Khuruz, 153 

Khush-bel, 58 sqq. 

Khush-kishlak Valley, 113 

Kie-pan-to, old name of Sarikol, 12 

Kie-sha, old name of Kashgar, 132 

Kighillik, remains at, 449 

kila-mudra, Pr., 402 

Kilik (Kalik) Pass, 56 sqq. 

kiltas (baskets for baggage), 5 

Kimnaras, 379 

kirakash, “ carriers,” P., 98, 104; 
of Khotan, 203 ; of Turkestan, 492 

kirgha (felt-hut), 74, 78, 83 

Kirghiz herdsmen, Os 783'83--85 
sqq., 108 ; as guides, 97; women 
of, 87: on Alai Mts., 496 sq. 

kirghiz, felts called, 340 

Kishanganga R., 15 sqq. 

Kis-sel, stream, 207 

kiyik (wild goat), T., 222 

kizil, ‘‘red” T. 

Kizil, oasis, 158 sq. 

Kizil-jaim, 154 

Kizil-Jilga, 114 

Kizil-kum, 330 

Kizil-su, R., 119 sq., 133; head- 
waters of, 495 sq. 

Knight, Mr., 32 

Kochkar-Oghil, 427 

Kohmari spur, ancient Mt. Gosringa, 
244 

koichi, ‘* shepherd,” T., 350 

kbk (kok) ** blue,” “ green,” 'T, 

K6k-moinak, 111 

Kok-robat, 159 sq. 

Kok-sel Gl., 105 

Kok-sel Gl. (in Gez Defile), 111 

Kok-sel Peak, 110, 111 

K6k-t6rdk, 59 sqq. 

Kok-tumshuk Hill, 107 


514 


Kok-yar, 98, 176 sq: 

kone, ““.0ld,v i: 

kone-shahr, ‘old town,” i.e., ruined 
site, T., 153, 418, 430 

Kongur, range called, 104 

Kongur-debe Gl., 105 

Kosa, 247 

Kosh Langar, 180 

Krasnowodsk, 501 

Kucha, xv, 404; one of ‘Four 
Garrisons,” 418; route to, 432 

Kuchkach-bulaki, 242 

Kuen-luen, range, 202, 212, 225 
sqq.; Ram Singh’s surveys in, 
251; sighted from Keriya, 339 ; 
sighted from Endere R., 423; last 
view of, 484 

Kuen-luen Peak No. 5, 209 sq., 211 

sq., 217 sqq. ; see Muz-tagh 

Kukyar, in Sarikol, 78 

kul (kol), ‘‘lake,” T. 

Kul-langar, old site, 192 

Kulma Pass, 80 

kumat, name for jade pits, 254 

Kumat, hamlet, 207 

Kum-i-Shahidan, shrine, 268 

Kum-Dawan, 77 

Kum-rabat-Padshahim, shrine, 194 
sqq. 

kumush (a coarse grass), T., 154,183, 
275, 305 sq., 330 sq., 345, 370, 
411, 423, 427; used in walls, 437 

Kunat, Pass, 236, 242 

Kunat-aghzi, 236 

kunjara, ‘‘ oileake,” T.; 299 

Kushana kings, rulers of Punjab, 


343, 360; nomenclature of, 400; | 


inscriptions of, 404 
Kushanasena, 400 


Kustana, ancient name of Khotan, | 


402 
Kuya, 487 


LapoureErs, recruiting Of, | 202) 805.5 
wages of, 254 
Lachin-Ata, pilgrimage place of, 
436, 438, 440 
lacquer, ancient, 311, 405 
Ladak, trade to, 203 
Ladakis, 130 
Lahore, stay at, 3; Campagna of, 
163; Moghul gardens of, 469; 
monuments of, 500 
ake 


langar, ‘‘ travellers’ shelter,” 


INDEX 


langarchi, ‘ attendant at resthouse,” 
Ps B41 

Langhru, 241 sqq. 

language, of Wakhan, 45; unknown 
1., 297 sqq.; languages spoken in 
camp, 52. 

leaf-gold, used in ancient statuary, 
260 sq. 326; on excavated 
image, 463 sq.; found at Tam- 
éghil, 447 - 

leather, ancient documents on, 385, 
390 sq.; in bindings of Sanskrit 
MSS., 391 

legend, of Ho-lo-lo-kia, 430; of 
Khotan stream, 293; of Somiya 
site, 265 sq.; represented in 

s ancient: painting, 319; legends 
about Taklamakan, 323 

Levies, of Hunza, 39 sq. ; of Kanjut, 
38; of Nagir, 32 

li, Chinese road measure, 119 

Lieh-sieh, see Li-sieh 

lihitaka, ‘‘ letter,’ Pr., 402 

Li-sieh (Lieh-sieh, Li-tsa), ancient 
local name, 311 sqq. 

Li-tsa, see Li-sieh 

Littledale, Mr. and Mrs., 124 

Liu-Cheng (‘‘ Six Cities’), 313 

Liu-Darin, Amban of Yarkand, 162, 
167 sqq., 174 sq. 

Liu-Kin-tang, temple in memory of, 
133 sqq. 

Liu-Lai-chin, 137 

local cult, in Khotan, 195 sq.; at 
Somiya, 266 

local legend, of holy rats, 308 

local tradition, continuity of, 439 

local worship, tenacity of, 267 

loess, banks of, 334, 407; erosion 
in, 188 sqq., 366, 422, 444; 
fertility of, 346; ravines in, 256 

Lop (or Sampula), 443 

Lop-nor, route to, 339, 342 

lotus, represented in frescoes, 292 
sq.; grown in Kashgar, 292; 
pedestal in form of, 288 


| Macartney, Mr. G., 8; Kashgar resi- 


dence of, 120 sqq.; his influence 
in E. Turkestan, 127; called Ma- 
shao-yieh by Chinese, 135; 149; 
acquires MSS., 309, 311 sqq., 315; 
433, 471, 478, 480, 491; his ser- 
vices to research, xxii 

Macdonell, Prof. A. A., xili 


INDEX 515 


Madhumati, stream, 13 

Madrasahs (schools), of Karghalik, 
180 ; of Imam Jafar, 347 sq. 

Maharajah, title, in Kharoshthi 
tablets, 361 

Mahayana, Buddhist school, 300; 
text, 415; worship, 320 

Maheb Khwoja, saint, 244 

mail coat, of ancient statue, 291 

mails, see dak . 

Mairyam, shrine of Bu M., 142 sq. 

Maitreya Buddha, 244 

Makuya, 487 

Malakalagan, 436 


Mandarins, at Kashgar, 128; see | 


Ambans 

Manners Smith, Capt., see Smith 

manuscripts, excavated at Dandan- 
Uiliq, 295 sqq.; at Endere, 414 
sqq.; fragment of, 248; see in- 
scribed tablets, Pothis 

map, of Stein’s surveys, xi 

marching powers, of Kanjutis, 51 

Mar Canal, 7 

Marco Polo, 181, 434 sqq.; ‘ Pein’ 
of, 823 

Margilan, 500 

margs, Kashmir plateaus called, 7, 
17; of Alai, 496 ; of Duyan, 25 

marketting, at Niya, 342; see 
Bazars 

‘markobans (pony-men), 14, 15 

marmots, Himalayan, 19, 80 

Marinus, of Tyre, 72 

Matargom, 13 

matting, of ancient roof, 363 

Mauri Tim Stupa, 144 sqq. 

mazar, ‘‘ sacred tomb,” ‘‘ shrine,” A. 

Mazars, cemeteries around, 264; of 
Kohmari, 244; of Somiya, 265; 
of Ordam-Padshah, 154 sqq. ; see 
Ziarats 

Mecca, pilgrim to, 499 

medicines, dispensing of, 75 ; sought 
at Khotan, 250 

Medinsky, General, 500 

mendicant monks, garb of, 293 

merry-go-round, miraculous escape 
by, 439 

Mery, 501 

Miles, Capt. P. J., 36 

millinery, ancient, 463 

Minaur, 27 

ming-bashi, ‘‘ head of a thousand,” 
T., official called, 69, 498 


Minimarg, 17, 18 

Mintaka Pass, 54, 56, 64 sq. 

mirab, ‘‘ irrigation steward,” P., 488 

miracle-working statue, 463 

Mirza Alim, from Kokand, 8, 92, 
123 

Mirza Haidar, chronicle of, 263 ; on 
Keriya R., 432 

Misgar, 50, 53, 55 

miskal, Chinese coin, 169, 171 

Mitaz, 232, 235 sq. 

mocassins, see Charuks 

Mohand Marg, 1, 6 

Moji, 187, 190 sqq. 

Mokuila, 187 

monastery, excavation of, 300; the 
Hu-kuo m., 315 sqq. 

monkey, figurines of, 259; gold 
statuette of, 485 

monks, Chinese, 315 sqq. 

mosque school, 273; see Madrasahs 

mountain sickness, 97, 100 

Mudache-tagh Pk., 229 

Muhammadabad, 42 

Muhammadans, E. Turkestan con- 

quered by, xv 

Muhammad-Ju, 123 

Muhammad Nafiz, 45 

Muhammad Nazim, chief of Hunza, 


Muhammad Rafi, of Hunza, 40 

Muhammad Shah, hunter, 428 

Muhammad Sidig, 474 

Muhammad Tari, 474 

Muhammad Yusuf, 56, 64 

maujawirs (custodians of shrines), A., 
155 sq., 158 

Mullahs, of Kohmari Mazar, 246 

Mullah Shah, 428 

Murghab Valley, 60 

Murkhun, 50 sq. 

Murkushi, 54 

Muz-tagh, range, 32 

Muz-tagh-Ata, 68, 76 sqq., 85 sqq., 
90 sqq.; ascent on, 94 sqq.; 
glaciers of, 92 sqq., 97; height 
of, 105; highest point reached 
on, 100 sq.; peaks of, 95 

Muz-tagh, Kuen-luen Pk. 5 called, 

210, 217 sqq., 229, 233, 237, 239; 

glaciers of, 222, 226; northern 

slopes of, 301 


Naaa, storm deities, represented as, 


135; legend of Naga lady, 293 


516 


Nagara-khana, mound of, 269 

Nagara-khana, shepherd’s hut, 345 

Nagir, hill tract, 31, 34; Nagir 
people, 50; their bravery, 32 

Naiza-Tash Pass, 72 

namadi, term for Numdah, 402 

Nanga-Parbat, 20, 25, 77 

Nar-Bagh, 483 sq., 469 

Nestorians, at Kashgar, 148 

‘* New City,” see Kashgar, Khotan 

New Dominions, E. Turkestan 
called, 129, 133, 137, 313 

Niaz, labourer, 297, 306 

Niaz Akhun, Chinese interpreter, 
124, 177, 182, 217, 226, 249; 
in charge of ponies, 273, 336, 
341; troublesome conduct of, 381 
Sqq.; farewell to, 488 

Niaz Hakim Beg, Yarkand palace 
of, 163, 181 ; governor of Khotan, 
257 ; exploits Yotkan site, 258; 
his Madrasah at Imam Jafar, 
348; 411, 441; Khotan residence 
of, 469 

Ni-jang, ancient name of Niya, 342 

Nilth, 31 sqq. ; storming of, 23, 32 

himbus, in ancient painting, 319 

Nissa Valley, 225, 227 sqq., 242; 
glaciers of, 230, 237; men of, 
227, 233, 235 

Niya, oasis, 339 sqq.; ancient 
frontier of Khotan, 342; iden- 
tified with Ni-jang, 336; anti- 
quities acquired at, 343 ; labourers 
brought from, 413; return to, 
424; marshes near, 425 

Ancient site beyond Niya, 

first reported, 337 ; arrival at, 352 
sq.; first excavations, 354 sqq.; 
ruined residences, 372. sqq. ; an- 


cient rubbish heaps, 385 sqq. ; | 


Kharoshthi documents, 390 sqq. 

Niya R., fed by marshes, 345; course 
of, 345 sqq.; ends in jungle, 350 
sq.; sand-dunes along, 424 

Nogai, 496 

_Nomal, 29 

non-Sanskrit language, in ancient 
MSS., 308; its affinity, 309, 414, 
416 

Numdah, ancient saddle-cloth, 319 ; 
see namadi 

Nura, hill stream of, 443 

Nurullah, 350, 381 

Nurunam, 153 


INDEX 


Nysa, mythic locality, 228 


Oasss, terminal, 412, 438 


oats, antique, 433 

Och-tébe, 496 

official documents, in Kharoshthi, 
361 sqq., 391 

oileakes (‘ Kunjara ’), 299, 301 

‘¢old books,” 184; forging of, 474 


sqq. 

‘Old City,” see Khotan, Kashgar 

Omsha Valley, 217 sq., 219, 223 sq. 

Opa, tanal, 162 

Opal, 114, 117 sq. 

Oprang, 39 

orchards, remains of ancient, 280, 
321 sq., 409 

Ordam-Padshah, shrine of, 153 sqq. 


. Orientalists, International Congress 


Ofs Xi1d 

ornaments, ancient Indian, 42 

Osh, start for, 495; arrival at, 498 

Osman Beg, 108 

Otra Langar, 341 

Ovis Poli, 79 

Ovraz Langar, 341 

Oxus, drainage area of, 45, 58; 
sources of, 56, 60 sqq.; Upper 
Valley of, 63; watershed of, 496 


Parnap, 172 


painted panels, ancient, from Dan- 
dan-Uiliq, 290 sqq., 295 sq., 307 
sqq., 314, 317 sqq. ; from Endere, 
420 

paipaks (felt socks), T., 176 

paleography, Chinese, 470 

Pallas Athene, on clay-seal, 396, 
xvii; reproduced in Vignette, 
XXiV 

palm-leaves, for writing, 367 

Pamirs; ethnic watershed on, 45; 
view over, 101; Taghdumbash P., 
57 sqq.; Russian Pamirs, 496 sq. 

Pamirski Post, 66, 496 

Pan-Darin, Amban of Khotan, 200 
sqq., 214; propitiates saint, 245 ; 
gives assistance, 248 sq., 271; 
seen on return, 470; his learning, 
470 ; receives Preliminary Report, 
ib.; helps to arrest Islam Akhun, 
472; prone to pardon, 479; fare- 
well to, 482; favours Turdi, 488 ; 
promotes Islam Beg, 442 ; services 
acknowledged, xxi 


INDEX 


Pandits, of Srinagar, 7, 10, 400 

Pandrenthan, temple of, 10 

paper, manufacture of, 186, 478; 
‘ancient MSS. on, 296 sqq., 308 
sqq.; in ancient Tibetan MSS., 
416; not found at Niya Site, 
367; period of its use, 404 

parapet, of ancient fort, 448 

Pari, 26 

Parmanand, 152 

Pasu, 47 sq. 

Payik Pass, 65 

' Pein, named by Marco Polo, 323, 
434 ; now Uzun-tati, 440 

Peking, troubles at, 64, 128; called 


Bajin, 124, 177; Emperor’s flight | 


from, 182, 252 
penal settlement, 215 
Persia, early art influence from, 
xviii, 166, 320; form of sword in, 
318 
Persian language, spoken in Hunza, 
46, 52; spoken in Sarikol, 75; 
rapid spread of, 36; 411, 486 
petition, ancient, 312 sq. 
Petrovsky, M. N., 131; 
492 
Peshawar Valley, ancient sculpture 
in, 465 3 see Gandhara 
Phakhpo, hill people, 177 sq. 


help from, 


. photo-theodolite, work with Bridges- | 


Lee, 28, 60, 63, 90797; 1%, 212, 
226, 229 Sqq.; 240) 
Pialma, 192 sq. 
picnics, of Kashgaris, 131 
Pigeons’ Sanctuary (Kaptar-Mazayr), 
194, 489 ; offering to, 489 
pilgrimages, Buddhist, xiv; Muham- 
madan, 331; to Imam Jafar Mazar, 
345 
Pi-mo, site of, 323, 430; mentioned 
' by Hiuen-Tsiang, 434; legend of, 
438 sq.; position identified, 439 
sqq.; identical with Marco Polo’s 
Pein, 440; occupied until middle 
ages, ib.; now represented by 
Gulakhma, 441; miracle-working 
statue at, 463 
Pir Pantsal range, 4 
Pisha Valley, 209 sqq., 225, 301, 339 
Pishin, 486 
Pisling, 67 
pits, of jade-diggers, 252 sqq. 
plane-table survey, started, 60; 
accuracy of, 302 sq., 425 . 


<QUADRANGLE, of Rawak Stupa, 


517 


plaques, in stucco relievo, 288, 455, 
460 

plaster, in ancient walls, 281, 284, 
357, 419 

Po-kia-i, identified with Moji, 191 

police, ancient orders of, 399 

Political Officer, at Kashgar, 130; 
in Hunza, 38, 36 

Polo, Dard game, 20 

Polu, 251, 302, 339 

Pom-tagh Pass, 226 

Ponak, 441 

ponies, purchase of, 123; sale of, 
492; story of Turdi’s pony, 304sqq. 

poplars, ancient trunks of, 352, 
379; see terek; ancient poplar 
leaves, 370, 379 

population, deficiency Chueh 

Popuna, 241 

Posgam Bazar, 172 

Post Office, Indian, 9; see dak 

Potai, road measure, 159, 352, 413 

Pothis, Indian MS, books, finds of, 
293, 295, 297, 308, 310, 317, 321, 
415 

potsherds, ancient, 187 

pottery, débris of ancient, 188, 191, 
261 sq.,,322, 326, 328, 447 

pradakshina, S., 284 

Prakrit, in Kharoshthi tablets, 361, 
399 sqq. 

Preliminary Report, on 
journey, viii, 470, 501 
presents, Chinese etiquette about, 

333; as rewards, 483 sq. 
priests, superintending conyent, 315 
Ptolemy, 72 
Pujia, 238, 240 
pul, monetary value, 170 
Punjab, Government of, ix, xxiii; 

traders from, 162 sqq. 
Punjabi language, spread of, 36 
Punyal, hillmen of, 24 ; chiefs of, 52 
Purohitas, of Tirthas, 246 
Pushtu language, 486° 
Pushwari, 17 
Puszta, Hungarian, 68 


Stein’s 


450 
sqq.; at Topa Tim, 145 ' 


Rawpas, ancient guitar, 377 
races, amalgam of, 486 
rajiks (galleries), 44, 51, 53, 109 
rags, as ex-votos, 419 


518 


raids, of Kanjutis, 51, 67, 101 
Rakiposhi, Mt., 22, 81 sqq., 34, sqq. 
Ramehat, 25 


| 


| 
| 


ramparts, ancient, 420 sq., 429, 440, | 


448 

Ram Singh, Sub-Surveyor, selection 
of, x, 8; starts plane-table work, 
60; 98, 100, 102; surveys Kara- 
tash P., 106; surveys to Khan- 
arik, 1480 212% <207. =231 — sq., 
236, 242; surveys in Kuen-luen, 
251; rejoins in desert, 301 sqq. ; 
helps at ruins, 303; 325, 339; 


reconnoitres desert, 354 ; 382, 433 — 
sq., 441, 457; starts for Yarkand, | 


483 ; appreciation of his services, 
493 ; returns to India, 494 

Ramzan fast, 342 

Rang-kul, 108 

Rapson, Mr, E.J.,assistancerendered 
by, xxiv, 398 sqq. 

Raquette, Mr. G., 132 

Rashid Beg, 69 

Raskam, 130 

rats, legend of sacred, 195 sq., 308, 
489; king of rats, 195; figure 
with head of rat, 308 

ravines, created by erosion, 366 

Rawak, ruins near Dandan-Uiliq, 
325 sqq. 

Rawak Stupa, discovery of, 449; 
excavations in Stupa court, 451: 
survey of Stupa, 452; relievo 
sculptures of, 453 sqq.; clearing 
of statuary, 455 sqq. ; work in 
trenches, 457; details of sculp- 
tures, 459 sqq.; outer screen of 
court, 460; secular figures, 461 ; 
relic of quaint custom, 463 ; 
affinity of its art, 465; its date, 
ib.; packing of relievos, 466; 
burial of sculptures, 468 

Rawlinson, Sir Henry C., 71 

red, auspicious colour, 336 

refuse, excavation of ancient, 387 
sqq.; antique refuse-heap, 449 

relics, of saint, 29 

relievos, in stuéco, of Dandan-Uiliq, 
282, 288; of Endere, 414 sq.; of 
Kighillik, 448 sq. ; of Rawak 
Stupa, 453 sqq. 

Remusat, M. Abel, 255 

Reuter telegrams, 24, 64, 128 

rice, antique, 433 

rishka, a cereal, 53 


INDEX 


Rivaz, Sir Charles, ix 

roads, sunk below fields, 263 

‘¢ Roof of the World,” 101 

roubles, circulating in Turkestan, 
171 

routes, ancient, 181 

Roza Akhun, camel-man, 124 

rubbish-heap, ancient, 385; docu- 
ments from, 387 

rug, ancient, 374 

rupee, exchange value of, 171 

rush fence, ancient, 379 

Russian Consulate, at Kashgar, 131; 
Consul-General purchases anti- 
quities, viii; help rendered by, 492 

Russian frontier, 498 

Russian Pamirs, 58, 66, 81 

Russian Turkestan, journey through, 
496 sqq.; postal service through, 
104 


SapaK AkHUtN, cook, 8, 9, 14, 92, 119, 


159, 240; under influence of 
Charas, 383 sq.; 495; discharge 
of, 498 
saddle, in ancient painting, 319 
Saduk-Langar, 158 
Safsgos, 78 
Sahib, designation for Europeans in 
- India, A. 
sai (stony desert), T., 247, 340, etc. 
Sai-bagh, 118 
saint’s intercession, for water, 245 
Sakyamuni, see Buddha; preaching 
of, 244 
saline water, 241 sq. 
Salistamba-sutra, Tibetan MS. of, 
417 
salt, dug at Imam Jafar, 349 


. Salt Range, 227 


Samarkand, 500 

Sa-mo-joh, Stupa of, 264 ; site identi- 
fied, 265 sq. 

Sampula (or Lop), 443, 475; market 
of, 486 

sand-cones, with tamarisks, 275, 352 
sq., 386, 428 sq., 485 

sand-dunes, advance of, 183 sq.; 
direction of, 278, 314, 447; form 
semi-lunes, 155; height of, 275, 
296, 328 sqq., 330, 410, 412, 429, 
438, 447, 449; movement of, 157, 
327; conjectures about movement 
of, 824; towards Keriya R., 328 
sqq. 


INDEX 


sand-ocean, Indian legend of, 403 

sand-storm, see Buran 

Sanskrit, known in ancient Khotan, 
xix, 317; Sanskrit correspondence, 
400; Sanskrit etymology, for 
name Khotan, 402 ; 


Sanskrit | 


MSS., finds of, 293, 295 sqq., 317, _ 


414; S. official designations, 400; 
8. terms in Kharoshthi docu- 
ments, 399; S. terms in non- 


Sanskritic MSS., 310; Sanskrit | 


words of command, 30 


sarai, ‘travellers’ rest-house,” P.; | 


ancient, 432 

Sarala, 78 

Sarguluk Pk.,.110, 113 

Sarhad, 63 

sarik, ‘* yellow,” T. 

Sarik-Jilga, 66 

Sarikol, 71 sqq.; Begs of, 59, 64, 
74; raids into, 38 sq.; range of, 
81 


Sarikolis, 54, 56 sqq.; language of, | 


75 

Sarik-tash Pass, 78 

Sarvai-Bel Pass, 114 

Satip Aldi, 93, 111 

satma, ‘ reed hut,” T., 274, 330 sq. 

Satok Boghra Khan, king, 131, 144 

Schliemann, Dr., xi 

sculpture, Buddhist, in India, 282 ; 
see relievos 

seal impressions, on inscribed 
tablets, 358, 365; classical, xvii, 
396 sq. 

sealing, of Kharoshthi tablets, 393 
sqq. 

ser, monetary value, 169 

Serike, 72 

servants, engagement of, 8 sq., 123 


sqq. 
sgraffiti, at Endere, Tibetan, 417; 
Chinese, 418 sq. 
Shagildik Dawan, 114 
Shahids (martyrs), 195; supposed 
tombs of, 349 
shahr, ‘‘town,” P. 
Shamalda, spur, 92, 103 
Shami Sope, 265 sq. 
Shams Beg, 84 
. Sheikhs (attendant priests), 195; of 
Kohmari cave, 245; of Burhan- 
uddin Mazar, 331, 426; of Imam 
Jafar Mazar, 381; of Arish-Mazar, 
435 


519 


Shen-shen, 404 

shepherds, along Keriya R., 331; 
supposed ‘‘ semi-savages,’”? 427 

Sher Muhammad, Munshi, 59, 67, 
70, 73, 75 

shield, ancient, 374 

Shields, Mr. Cuthbert, xxv 

Shighnan, 72; immigrants from, 75, 

5 


Shikarpur, Hindus from, 150 sqq. 

Shina, people, 52; language, 34 

Shindah, gorge, 76 

Shirin-Maidan, 56 

Shitala-Darya, 427 

Shitala Padshah Mazar, 424 

Shivul, marshes of, 435; stream of, 
435 

Shodhoga, ancient title, 400, 402 

shoes, ancient, 406 

shrines, construction of, at Dandan- 
Uiliq, 281 

Shush Pass, 77 

Sikhs, their rule in Gilgit, 28 

Sikkim, 2 

Siligh Langar, 183 

silks, ancient, xviii, 405, 419 

silt deposits, due to irrigation, 263 
sq., 271; at Tam-6dghil, 447; 
specimens from Yotkan, 485 

Simhasana (lion’s throne), 287, 377 

Sine, land of, 181 

Sind Valley, 6 

Sipa, 197 

Sirik-toghrak, 253 

Sita (Tash-kurghan) R., 72 

Si-yu-ki, records of Hiuen-Tsiang, 
128, 167, 176 

‘« Six Cities,’ ancient 
Khotan district, 313 

Skobeleff, General, 498 

Smith, Capt. J. Manners, 22 sqq., 25 

snow, in desert, 352 

soda efflorescence, in desert, 412 


name of 


Soghak-Oghil, 223 

som, rouble called, 171 

Somiya, site of, 265 sq. 

Sop Niaz Baba, 144 

Sramana (monk), 400 

speculation, in jade-mining, 254 

spoons, ancient, 406 

springs, appearance of, 443 

Srinagar, 4sq., 7; seven bridges of, 
9; ruined temples of, 10 

standard of living, in E. Turkestan, 
193 


520 


stationery, ancient terms for, 402 

statue, of colossal Buddha, 284; of 
Yaksha, 291 sq.; see Buddhas, 
relievos 

Stein, Dr. M.A , forms first plan of 
journey, vii sq. ; obtains sanction 
of plan, ix ; previous archeological 
labours of, x sq., 2; surveys of, 
in E. Turkestan, x sq. ; Orienta- 

_ list Congress’s resolution concern- 
ing, xiii; official duties of, xxiii; 
his previous Indian tours, 2; 
starts from Calcutta, 3; prepares 
in Kashmir, 4 sqq.; edits Kashmir 
Chronicle, 6; leaves Srinagar, 9 ; 
arrives in Gilgit, 27; reaches 
Hunza, 30; crosses Kilik P., 57; 
visits Oxus source, 62; arrives in 
Tash-kurghan, 69 ; camps at 
Kara-kul, 83; climbs on Muztagh- 
Ata, 93; travels to Kashgar, 106 ; 
prepares caravan at Kashgar, 122; 
visits “Chinese officials, 127 ; 
examines old sites, 139; leaves 
for Yarkand, 149; halts at Yar- 
kand, 161; sets out for Khotan, 
180; first arrival in Khotan, 196; 
starts for Kuen-luen Mts., 206; 
explores Yurung-kash gorge, 220 ; 
crosses Kara-kash ranges, 232 ; 


triangulates Khotan, 240; returns | 


to Khotan, 247; visits Yotkan 
site, 256; starts for desert, 270; 
experiences great cold, 276; ex- 
gavates at Dandan-Uiliq, 280; 
marches to Keriya, 325; sets out 
for ancient site beyond Niya, 339 ; 
discovers Kharoshthi records on 
wood, 3855; excavates ancient 
rubbish-heap, 385; explores En- 
dere ruins, 413; visits Kara-dong, 
427; identifies Pi-mo site, 438; last 
’ visit to Keriya, 444; explores Ak- 
sipil, 448; excavates Rawak Stupa, 
449 ; exposes forgeries, 471; 
leaves Khotan, 482; returns to 
Kashgar, 490; starts for Russian 
Turkestan, 494; arrives in Lon- 
don, 501; returns to Punjab, 502 
“ Stone Tower” (Tash-kurghan), 71 
storms, of desert region, 317 
stovana, 402 
stratification, in silt-deposits, 447 
straw, ancient, discovery of, 305, 
406 


INDEX 


string-hole, in ancient MSS., 297, 
300, 310, 392; in ancient tablets, 
364 

stucco, gilt, 326; relievos in, 281 sq. ; 
colossal statues in, 451 sqq.; see 
relievos 

Stupas, called ‘‘ memorial towers,” 
387; chamber in, 146; propor- 
tions of, 422; Stupa at Thol, 34; 
at Tash-kurghan, 73; near Kash- 
gar, 132; near Khan-ui, 145 sqq. ; 
on Afghan border, 146; near 
Mokuila, 187 sq.; near Pialma, 
192; at Chalma-kazan, 252; of 
Sa-mo-joh, 264 sqq.; of Rawak, 
326; of Niya Site, 352, 372, 
386 sqq.; of Endere, 413, 421 
sq.; of Hanguya, 444; of Rawak, 
449 sqq.; at Kara-débe, 487 

Su-bashi, 81, 88 

Suko-sai Valley, 236 

Su-le, old name of Kashgar, 404 

Sulaiman Khagan, coins of, 190 

Sultanim, 154 

Sumair glacier, 41 

Sung dynasty, coin of, 440 

Sung-yun, 72 

Sun-Ssu-yieh, Munshi, 126, 313 

superintendents of monastery, 315, 
sqq. 

sureties, in ancient bonds, 315 

Surghak, goldfields of, 340 sq. 

Survey of India Department, help 
Olsex4 28 

Suziije Darya, 411 

Svastika, emblem, 42 

Swat, ruins of, 376 

Swedish missionary, portrait of, 473 

sword, in ancient painting, 318 


TaBLErs, writing on wooden, see 


inscribed tablets 
Tabloids, 9, 250 
Ta-fan, Chinese name of Tibetans, 
418 
Tagharma, plain, 77 sqq. 
Tagharma-su, R., 76, 80 
Taghdumbash Pamir, 56 sqq. 
Taghdumbash R., 67, 76 ‘ 
taghliks ‘‘hillmen,” T., 210 sqq., 
etc. ; deceived by Islam Akhun, 473 
Ta-jen, Chinese title, 167 
takhta (writing tablet), P., 310 sq. ; 
ancient documents on, 362, 364, 
402 


INDEX 


Takhtuwen, 194 
Taklamakan, desert, xv, 181, 270 
sqq.; dust-haze of, 238; legends 


about, 323, 439 ; physical condi- | 


tions of, 397 ; sand- storm season 
in, 451; so-called ‘City of T.,” 


248 ;s “the Aksakal of the T., 9 


406, 488 

Takshasila, the Taxila of the Greeks, 
403 

Talantik Pass, 114 

Taldik Pass, 496 

Ta-li, Chinese period, 311 sqq. 

tamarisks, in desert, 275, 305, 328, 
330 sq., 346, 351 sq., 370, 412, 
437; writing on, 311 

Tam-éghil, culture- strata of, 447 

‘tanga, monetary value, 170 sq. 

Tang dynasty, monk of, 128; coins 
of, 252, 261 

Tang-Seng, Hiuen-Tsiang called, 


128, 168, 169, 178, 182; his evi- | 


dence invoked, 279; regarded as 
Arhat, -ib.; 336; benediction of, 
493 

tank, ancient, 407 

Tao-tai, of Kashgar, 127 sqq., 292, 
492; death of, 493 

Tar-bugaz, bridge of, 141 

Tar-bugaz Langar, 196, 489 

tarigh (a pulse), T., 433 

Tarikh-i-Rashidi, chronicle, 269 

tarim, ‘ colony, 7 mp 

Tarim R., 482, 496 

Tarim-Kishlak, 208 

tash (‘*stone,” T'.), road measure, 119 

Tashbalik, see Tash-malik 

Tash-bulak, see Tash-malik 

Ta-shih, Chinese period, 405 

Tash-kurghan, town and fort, 69, 
sqq.; raids to, 38; marches to, 
51; ruins of, 72 sqq.; Munshi at, 
59 

Tash-kurghan R., 69 

Tashlik-Boyan Pass, 207 

Tash-malik oasis, 113 sqq. 

Tashsot, 36 

taskira, legendary called, 268 

ZVati, ancient sites called, 188 sq. ; 
course of decay at, 438; of Jamada, 
206, 252; of Hanguya, 444; of 
Jumbe- kum, 468; of Kara-ddébe, 
487 

Tati-lik, ruins called, 436 

Taun-murun Pass, 496 


521 


Tawakkel, oasis, 248, 270; 273 sq., 
280, 306, 326; Beg of, 248, 271, 
274; labourers from, 304, 327 

tax on skins, 306; record of ancient 
taxes, 312 

Taxila, immigration from, 403 

Ta-Yue-chi, Indo- Scythians, 404 

Tchaikowsky, General, 500 

teeth, as ex-votos, 291 

tel, monetary value, 169 

telegraph, to Gilgit, 17, 19; to Kash- 
gar, 128 

Telwichuk R., 119 

temperatures, in desert, 276, 329, 
340, 344, 347, 350, 361, 372, 408, 
434, 441 

temple ruins, of Dandan-Uiliq, 307 
sqq.; of Endere, 414 sqq. 

tent, 276 

terek, cultivated poplar (populus 
alba), T., 278, 352, 8573 as build- 
ing material, 431 

Terek-aghzi, 218, 224 

Terek Pass, 496 

teresken (juniper), T., 87 

terra-cotta, figurines, 261 ; vases, 260 

theodolite, work with, 3 243 

Thian- shan, 122 

Thol, Stupa near, 34 

Tibet, art of, 320 ; invasion from, 
418 sq.; political power of, xix 

Tibetan MSS., found at Endere, 416 
sqq.; oldest specimens of, 417; 
Tibetan graffiti, at Endere, 417 


sqq. 

Tien-tsin, fighting at, 64 

Tigharman-su, 64 

Tikelik-tagh, Pk., 212 

Ti-kia-po-fo-na, monastery of, 267 

Tila Bai, pony-man, 257, 424 

tim, ancient mounds called, T., 145 
sqq. 

timber, in ancient buildings, 262, 
281, 322, 357, 366, 369; varieties 
of, 431 

Timur, Emperor, 500 

‘* tips,” in EK. Turkestan, 483 

Tirthas, of India, 246 

Tiznaf, 76 

Tiznaf R., 173 

Togdasin Beg, 85 

toghrak (wild poplar), T., 275, 346, 
423, 427 sq.3; dead trunks of, 
351, 431, 436, 478; ancient timber 
of, 431 ; in ancient ice-pit, 370 


522 


toghruga, 478 

Toguchak, 161 sq. 

Tégujai, ancient site, 190 sq. 

Tokhta Akhun, house of, 198, 249, 
269 

tokuz, ‘“nine,” T. 

Tokuz-ak, 118 sq. 

Tokuz-Dawan, Passes, 112 sqq. 

Tokuz-kol, 423 

Toldama, 428 

Tonguz-baste, 427 sq. 

Topalu-Bel Pass, 114 

Topa Tim, near Guma, 187 

Topa Tim, near Khan-ui, 145 

top-bashi, small official called, T., 
4 


Top-khana, 54 

Tosalla, 484 

Téwen-Bazar, Guma, 186 

trade-routes, across Pamirs, 67, 72; 
through Khotan, xv 

Tragbal, Pass, 13 sq. 

Trans-Alai Mts., 101, 496 

Trans-Caspian railway, 341; per- 
mission to travel by, 491; ter- 
minus reached, 498 sq.; journey 
by, 501 

transport arrangements, in Kashmir, 
5, 12; in Gilgit, 28; in Hunza, 
38; for stucco relievos, 466 

treasure-seekers, of Khotan, viii, 202, 
204; open Stupa, 252; diggings 
of, 278 sq., 415, 449 sq., 457; 
destruction dealt by, xx sq., 321, 
448 


trees, dead, in desert, 278, 280, 328; | 


see terek, toghrak 

triangulation, in Kuen-luen, 233, 242 
sqq., 301; connection with Indian 
surveys, 236 sqq. 

Trisula, S., ornament, 319 

Tsin, Chinese dynasty, 405 

Tsin-kia-hing, 418 

tugachis ‘*camel-men,” T., 124 

Tughlan-shahr, 69 

Tiigiilaz, 173 

Tulkuch-kol, 350 

Tiimen-Darya, R., 122 

tungchi, ‘‘interpreter,” T., 180, 336 

Turdi Khwoja, treasure-seeker, 247 
sqq., 271; guides in desert, 277; 
familiar with ruins, 279; watches 
excavations, 301; his antiquarian 
instinct, 304; story of his pony, 
304 sqq.; earlier MS. finds of, 309, 


INDEX 


312, 314; 325, 328; helps to clear 
refuse-heap, 406; 426; rejoins, 
436 ; directs guide, 439 ; 444, 448; 
guides to Rawak, 449; 457, 476; 
confronts Islam Akhun, 480; fare- 
well to, 488 

Turfan, 418 

Turkestan, Chinese, called ‘‘ New 
Dominions,”’ 129, 183; 137, 313; 
Chinese sovereignty over, 405; 
climate of, xxi; currency. of, 
169 sq. ; folklore of, 323; gardens 
in, 469; houses in, 363, 374; 


surveys in, x; Tibetan inva- 
sion: of,: xix, ‘-418 -sqqsy see 
Chinese 


Turki language, study of, 8, 130; 

* conversation in, 75, 336; writing 
in, 273, 306 

Turki people, features of, 342; 
power of assimilation in, 486 


Urtu LANGAR, 154 
ut, house,” shut,” f. 
Ui-toghrak, 340 
Ujadbhai, see Ghujak-bai 
Ujat, 244 sqq.; 247 
Ularlik-Jilga, 113 
Ulughat, Pass, 236 sqq.; descent 
from, 241 sqq.; range, 244; last 
view of, 484 
Ulugh-Dawan, 208 sq., 212 
Ulugh-Nishan Mazar, 158 
Ulugh-Rabat Pass, 80 
Ulugh-Sai Valley, 341 
Ulugh-Ziarat, remains at, 440 
un-bashi, ‘‘head of ten men,” T., 
210 
under-tablets, of Kharoshthi docu- 
ments, 392 sq. 


unknown characters, in forged 
MSS., 471 sqq. 
Urumchi, 128, 134, 182, 483; 


governor-general at, 470 

iiriik, plum-tree, T., 443 

_ustads (‘‘ masters,” P.), craftsmen 

called, 125, 130, 140, 149 

ustang, ‘‘ canal,” T. 

Uttarakurus, 8 

Uzun-tati, ancient site of, 
439 sqq.; débris of, 440 


323, 


VAISRAVANA, as genius loci, 487 
Vajracchedika, MS. of, 300 
vesica, 308 


INDEX 523 


Victoria, Queen-Empress, death of, 
433 

vignette of title-page, design for, 
Xxiv 

Vihara (Buddhist monastery), S., 
244; excavation of, 300 sqq., 
449 sq. 

vines, at Ujat, 247 

Virochana monastery, position of, 
267 

Volur Lake, 4, 11, 13 

votive offerings, at Dandan-Uiliq, 
290 sqq., 321; at Rawak Stupa, 
465 ; see ex-yotos 

votive Stupa, 465 


Waass of labourers, 271 


Wakhan, 45, 95, 62 

Wakhi, language, 75 

Wakhis, settlements of, 45 sqq., 52, 
54, 67, 74, 78 ; herdsmen, 54 sqq.; 
at Yarkand, 165 

Wakhijir, Pass, 60 sqq. 

Wali Muhammad, guide, 97, 100 
sqq. 

walking-stick, ancient, 374, 379, 
382 

Wang-Daloi, 25 sqq. 

wagf, ‘‘ endowment,” A., 158 

washing, for gold, at Yotkan, 
258 sqq. 

water, in desert, 275, 303, 326; see 
wells ; pilgrimage for, 245 

water-lined paper, ancient, 308, 311 

water-tanks, used in desert, 3, 125, 
276, 328, 349 sq., 428, 436 

wattle and plaster walls, 307 

Wazir, of Hunza chief, 38 

wedge-shaped tablets, 358 sqq., 364, 
374; term for, 402 

wells, dug in desert, 275, 278, 303, 
326, 329, 450 sq. 

wheat, antique, 433 

wheel, sacred, 42 

Wilayet, Kurope called, A., 480 sq. 

wood, as writing material, 327, 
367 ; comp. inscribed tablets 

wood - carving, ancient, 376, 407; 
in Hunza, 42 

Woodburn, Sir John, ix, 3 

wool, exports of, 177 

writing pens, in wood, 366, 377, 391 

Wurshki, language, 35 

Wu-tchu, Chinese symbols, 465 

Wu-ti, Emperor, 405 


YaGan-Dawan, 232 sqq. 


yailaks, ‘summer grazings, T., 
497 

Yaks, 56 sqq., 60 sqq., 94, 98 sq., 
217, 221, 224, 226, 233, 235, 242, 
249 

Yak’s tails, on graves, 216 

yak-shamba, ‘‘ sunday,” P. 

Yak-shamba, Bazar, of Khan-arik, 
150 

Yakshas, figures of, 292, 462 

Yamala Pass, 115 

Yaman-yar R., 105, 117, 150, 152 

yambus, silver pieces called, 171 

Yambulak Glacier, 86, 92, 94 sq., 
97 sqq., 103 

Yambulak Valley, 93 

Yamen, Chinese official residence 
called, 128 sqq., passim ; gates of, 
433 

yangi, ‘* young,” T. 

Yangi-arik, 270 

Yangi-Darya, 197 

Yangi-Hissar, 114 

Yangi-Langar, 207 

Yangi-Shahr (‘‘New City’), of 
Kashgar, 129, 135 sqq.; of 
Keriya, 334; of Yarkand, 163 

Yaqa-Langar, 441 

Yaqub Beg, ruler of Turkestan, 133, 
143, 173, 196 

yar, ‘‘ravine,” T’., cut in loess, 256, 
447; of Niya R., 350 

Yar-bagh, 181 

Yarkand, 161 sqq. ; departure from, 
171, 173; return to, 490 sq.; 
foreign colonies at, 164 sqq., 
486; racial amalgam at, 486; 
trade relations of, 167 

Yarkand R., 58, 172 sq. 

Yarkandi horse, 318 

Yar-tungaz R., 410 sqq.; jungle of, 
411; shifting of, 412, 424 

Yar-tungaz Tarim, 411 sq. 

Yasin, 34 

Yawa, stream, 487 

Yesyulghun, 340 

Yetimlukum, 178 

Yoghan-kum, 427 

Yokakun, 198 

Yoke-toghrak, 427 

‘Yolchi Beg,’ Stein’s fox-terrier,’ 
19, 44, 82, 92, 157, 217, 235, 256, 
276, 314, 333, 423, 445; returns 
to India, 495 


524 INDEX 


Yotkan, site of ancient Khotan, 
203, 256 sqq., 264 sq.; discovery 
of, 257 sqq.; excavations at, 259 
sq.; antiques found at, 258 sqq. ; 
alluvium at, 262 sqq.; culture- 
strata at, 261 sqq.; last visit to, 
484; Yotkan Yar, 257; its forma- 
tion, 259 ; extent of, 264, 267 sq. 

Young, Sir Mackworth, ix 

Younghusband, Major F. E., 70 

yti, “jade,” Ch., 255 

Yule, Sir"Henry, 72, 205 ; identifies 
Marco Polo’s Pein, 440 

Yurgal Gumbaz, 68 

ytrt, Kirghiz felt-hut called, T., 70, 
78, 87, 93 

Yurung-kash, R., 202 sq.; head- 
waters of, 207 sqq., 212, 218, 


220 sqq:, 228, 232, 237, 239, 
251; course through desert, 270 
sq.; canals from, 443; floods 
from, 447; jade washed from, 
251 sqq.; percolation from, 451 ; 
Yurung-kash R. gorge, 213, 218 ; 
advance in, 220 sqq.; distant 
view of, 229 
Yurung-kash, canton, 445 sq., 488 
Yurung-kash, town, market of, 486 
yliz-bashi, ‘‘head of a Hundred” 
(headman), T. 


ZANGuYA, 192 
Zawa, 196, 488 
ziarat, ‘* shrine,” A.; see Mazar 
Zilan, 218 


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